[she would've said something about that roaming hand of his, but before she can, his mouth is against her neck and whatever she meant to say is just a soft, surprised sound in her breath. that-- that actually feels really nice? one wouldn't think it would, right? it must be weird, but...no, that--that, and his palm at her back are fantastic feelings.
what's fascinating, too, is how, once she gets a sense of herself again, she finds she can move him in turn: how moving her hand toward his clavicle makes his breath draw up against it, and how, even just with a little curl and lift of a finger, she can tilt his chin up and see him again and find he's not that all-controlling at smug. they're not on equal footing at all, but...well, he's flush, too.]
...Hi. [lacking in anything eloquent to say, her smile is sheepish and voice quiet.]
You're...pretty good at this. [?? ? ? whatever this is! gods.]
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what's fascinating, too, is how, once she gets a sense of herself again, she finds she can move him in turn: how moving her hand toward his clavicle makes his breath draw up against it, and how, even just with a little curl and lift of a finger, she can tilt his chin up and see him again and find he's not that all-controlling at smug. they're not on equal footing at all, but...well, he's flush, too.]
...Hi. [lacking in anything eloquent to say, her smile is sheepish and voice quiet.]
You're...pretty good at this. [?? ? ? whatever this is! gods.]