[ the coffee flavour in his mouth is just light enough not to make her sick. it were gone entirely, she's sure she would resent its absence. it's a part of him, like the concrete dust under his fingernails before he showers or the effigy hidden among his belongings.
Jess eases him to his back by smothering his chest with hers to lie on top of him. she lets him delve up with his tongue, hers guiding unconcernedly. her arm laid over him and crooked beside his head, she scrapes the flat backs of her nails through the roots of hair at the top of his scalp. his warmth seeps into her all the way down to her bare legs, loosely spread along one of his. the disparity of their dress doesn't bother her; she likes the gritty, functional fabrics he wears. fuck silk and have it tell satin to suck it too. ]
[ he goes easily, proving that he likes this arrangement quite a bit. maybe that's why he'd asked her in that proverbial text that broke the camel's back. not because he thought he'd figured her out, but because this is his own predictable folly. strong, fierce women who might like to push a man like him around now and then. and what's the harm in that really? his fingers dig into her lower back, leg angling up to slot alongside hers and make their lower bodies fit even snugger.
the scrape against his scalp looses a moan into the confines of their joined mouths, his eyes pressed tightly closed now. the snow and his nightmares easily fall away with the promise of more contact, his skin already heating up under her in a telltale sign that this could quickly escalate. but he doesn't want it to, not yet. he loves how easy and perfect this feels, a lazy morning suspended between their lips. ]
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Jess eases him to his back by smothering his chest with hers to lie on top of him. she lets him delve up with his tongue, hers guiding unconcernedly. her arm laid over him and crooked beside his head, she scrapes the flat backs of her nails through the roots of hair at the top of his scalp. his warmth seeps into her all the way down to her bare legs, loosely spread along one of his. the disparity of their dress doesn't bother her; she likes the gritty, functional fabrics he wears. fuck silk and have it tell satin to suck it too. ]
no subject
the scrape against his scalp looses a moan into the confines of their joined mouths, his eyes pressed tightly closed now. the snow and his nightmares easily fall away with the promise of more contact, his skin already heating up under her in a telltale sign that this could quickly escalate. but he doesn't want it to, not yet. he loves how easy and perfect this feels, a lazy morning suspended between their lips. ]