Each and every time she speaks his name it sounds a little better, the pronunciation a bit more precise - to the point where it's starting to send an unfamiliar sort of shiver down the length of his spine. Perhaps it's simply the way that she says it, or the context in which it's spoken. Maybe it's the fact that it coming from her and he is so keenly aware of what they're about to partake in.
But then he's being tugged inside so easily, barely even noticing the door being slammed shut behind them, effectively closing out the rest of the world and leaving it as only them. One moment he's attempting to get over the shock of it all and the next she's in his arms, leg's wrapped firmly about his waist. Without even thinking his hands come to rest on her body, one gripping beneath a thigh while the other goes to a hip, holding her up and keeping her in place against him.
He was going to say something, he's completely aware of that, but the words had died an early death the moment her lips press against his.
They're so soft and they feel so incredibly good against his own. It's so easy to get lost in her kisses, to allow his mind to clear, to stop thinking and start actually doing. They're short and sweet, and it helps to ease him into the idea, gives him time to figure out how to respond, how to move hips lips against hers. It's unpracticed, but he's a keen, fast learner, and it takes little time for him to pick up on.
The hand that had previously rested on her hip rises, long fingers slipping against her warm skin to cup her cheek as the kisses deepen, as his pulse quickens. It's so good that he chases after her lips even after she withdraws, barely leaving time for a quickly drawn in breath before initiating the next kiss. It's slow and passionate, deep and intense, as if intent on showing her what he's learned.
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But then he's being tugged inside so easily, barely even noticing the door being slammed shut behind them, effectively closing out the rest of the world and leaving it as only them. One moment he's attempting to get over the shock of it all and the next she's in his arms, leg's wrapped firmly about his waist. Without even thinking his hands come to rest on her body, one gripping beneath a thigh while the other goes to a hip, holding her up and keeping her in place against him.
He was going to say something, he's completely aware of that, but the words had died an early death the moment her lips press against his.
They're so soft and they feel so incredibly good against his own. It's so easy to get lost in her kisses, to allow his mind to clear, to stop thinking and start actually doing. They're short and sweet, and it helps to ease him into the idea, gives him time to figure out how to respond, how to move hips lips against hers. It's unpracticed, but he's a keen, fast learner, and it takes little time for him to pick up on.
The hand that had previously rested on her hip rises, long fingers slipping against her warm skin to cup her cheek as the kisses deepen, as his pulse quickens. It's so good that he chases after her lips even after she withdraws, barely leaving time for a quickly drawn in breath before initiating the next kiss. It's slow and passionate, deep and intense, as if intent on showing her what he's learned.