(right here is fine — a part of her might have been surprised if this entire thing hadn't felt so dreamlike in the first place. why wouldn't a dream steve rogers insist on having her in front of everyone? dreams are just that — dreams. fantasies. nothing that was grounded in reality. instead of surprise, the words rocket through her in the form of a persistent throb between her legs and another muffled moan followed by what could have been a curse. )
No. Here.
( moving will take too much time, and she's not nearly motivated enough to spend that time when he's crushed against her — she wants to remember every second of this, every shifting of his body underneath her, every touch of his fingertips. breathing heavily, she jumps when his fingers brush against her core, then rocks down against them until she's found a rhythm she likes to match the circles he's drawing.
pulling her hands away from him, natasha reaches for the ties of the corset around her back, tugging at a few bows on the bottom to try and make it easier for him to loosen. )
Fuck —( she breathes, a brush of his fingers just right enough for her to tremble in his lap, the sensation of him wonderfully solid. )
no subject
No. Here.
( moving will take too much time, and she's not nearly motivated enough to spend that time when he's crushed against her — she wants to remember every second of this, every shifting of his body underneath her, every touch of his fingertips. breathing heavily, she jumps when his fingers brush against her core, then rocks down against them until she's found a rhythm she likes to match the circles he's drawing.
pulling her hands away from him, natasha reaches for the ties of the corset around her back, tugging at a few bows on the bottom to try and make it easier for him to loosen. )
Fuck — ( she breathes, a brush of his fingers just right enough for her to tremble in his lap, the sensation of him wonderfully solid. )