[ her bite comes with a spark of pain that only makes him grin, a contented growl rumbling deep in his throat. for all of his posturing, there's still a small part of him that can't quite believe this is happening. that alina is in his bed at all. there have been so many times he wished to approach her to talk about absolutely nothing, so many moments held in the privacy of his own head but always thwarted by this or that or the other. so many times he's looked at her from across a room and caught her gaze gravitating toward mal instead.
but now she's here, and she seems to want to be here, and she doesn't pull away from his touch. he doesn't mind the scratch marks at his shoulders and back. he doesn't even mind being a smug idiot right now. he just wants to savor this moment, to commit it to memory, to admire the sunlight against her skin. it's the loveliest sight he's seen in days. ]
I believe charming is the correct word.
[ he hooks a finger around the fabric of her underwear, slowly easing it down while his lips find hers again, kissing her softly, his eyes fluttering open to watch her face. there's a question in his gaze, an is this okay that floats to meet her eyes. despite the brandy he was buzzed on, he remembers it when she told him that she hadn't done this before.
his fingers slide gently along the now bare wetness between her legs, caressing her carefully. their noses brush, his unkempt hair falling to brush his forehead. ] Honestly, I have a bit of experience with this and that, but not as much as I tend to lead people to believe. It's difficult, at times. Lantsov men tend to take what they want, but maybe it's because my blood's been spoiled already that I crave a little more than a meaningless encounter.
[ he rises, not putting into words that this could very well be meaningless because he still feels uncertain about where exactly he stands in all this. he lifts one of her legs, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her thigh. ]
May I? [ he pulls her panties off the rest of the way, dropping it over the side of the bed and planting another line of kisses down the inside of her thigh. ] If you absolutely hate it, feel free to kick me. I'll get the message.
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but now she's here, and she seems to want to be here, and she doesn't pull away from his touch. he doesn't mind the scratch marks at his shoulders and back. he doesn't even mind being a smug idiot right now. he just wants to savor this moment, to commit it to memory, to admire the sunlight against her skin. it's the loveliest sight he's seen in days. ]
I believe charming is the correct word.
[ he hooks a finger around the fabric of her underwear, slowly easing it down while his lips find hers again, kissing her softly, his eyes fluttering open to watch her face. there's a question in his gaze, an is this okay that floats to meet her eyes. despite the brandy he was buzzed on, he remembers it when she told him that she hadn't done this before.
his fingers slide gently along the now bare wetness between her legs, caressing her carefully. their noses brush, his unkempt hair falling to brush his forehead. ] Honestly, I have a bit of experience with this and that, but not as much as I tend to lead people to believe. It's difficult, at times. Lantsov men tend to take what they want, but maybe it's because my blood's been spoiled already that I crave a little more than a meaningless encounter.
[ he rises, not putting into words that this could very well be meaningless because he still feels uncertain about where exactly he stands in all this. he lifts one of her legs, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her thigh. ]
May I? [ he pulls her panties off the rest of the way, dropping it over the side of the bed and planting another line of kisses down the inside of her thigh. ] If you absolutely hate it, feel free to kick me. I'll get the message.