[the answer that he's about to get to his unspoken question isn't a mystery. her want is all over her, from her groan that he feels more than actually hears, to the movement of her hips against his, to the blood that's rushing under her skin, to the palpable heat in the air over them. when he breaks away, just for a moment, to take in a breath, the scent of that want fills his lungs, too — and it's enough to make his head spin. his knees, still not at their strongest, threaten to buckle under the force of it; if it weren't for their current position, he might actually fall.
still, he waits.
he waits until she reaches for his hand, and waits for her to direct it where she wants, feeling the heat from her reach a peak at the destination. the hint that she gives him reads loud and clear — and, in the end, he settles for shifting the fabric aside with his thumb, allowing a finger to slip inside her as she thrusts against his hand. the other splays, palm flat, onto the tree behind her for support.
for now, he lets her own motion set the pace, learning from it, seeing what kind of reactions he can get. that's something he wants to do, even as the friction tightens his breath, and has the tension within him aching.
but what's a little pain, to him? he can take it.]
no subject
still, he waits.
he waits until she reaches for his hand, and waits for her to direct it where she wants, feeling the heat from her reach a peak at the destination. the hint that she gives him reads loud and clear — and, in the end, he settles for shifting the fabric aside with his thumb, allowing a finger to slip inside her as she thrusts against his hand. the other splays, palm flat, onto the tree behind her for support.
for now, he lets her own motion set the pace, learning from it, seeing what kind of reactions he can get. that's something he wants to do, even as the friction tightens his breath, and has the tension within him aching.
but what's a little pain, to him? he can take it.]