[Her cheek is blazing hot under his lips, and her eager press into his hand is just about as subtle. When she goes to respond to his quip no words come out, and from the way her eyelids flutter low for slow, steady beats, he's lived up to his ideal of being a distraction]
[Which is to say, he keeps up the distraction - that same steady back and forth of a single finger, too muted by the fabric of her pants and almost certainly too slow]
[And while she's distracted, he shifts a little - adjusts his own position, to free up more of the arm pressed to the ground - reaches, almost casually, to thumb at her nipple through the fabric of her shirt]
[She startles out a cry at the unexpected brush over her chest; bucks up encouragingly against that too-slow finger before she can stop herself. She makes as if to grip at his wrist for lack of idea of what else to do]
[The finger between her legs is joined by a second finger, and it presses a little firmer - begins to rub a little faster, picking up the pace for a long few seconds]
Well... I don't wanna be unfair.
[Then it leaves off entirely, beginning the long, slow path away again, tracing soft touches over the skin of her inner thigh and down to her knee. When it reaches the bottom of its descent, the thumb of the hand she's still holding onto brushes over her chest again - comes together with his index finger and pinches, light]
[She lets out a whine as he pulls away--can't keep from squeezing her legs together as if to keep him from going, skin roiling against the chill of his fingers]
That's super not fair--rr--ah--
[Her voice catches at the pinch, going high pitched and breathless and much less even than she'd originally intended. Her grip on his wrist tightens reflexively as she shivers closer into his touch]
[He draws in a soft breath, when her voice catches - glances downward, to take in the way she's squirming, and then back up, to watch her face. When he speaks, he sounds a little breathless - maybe a bit awed]
...what ain't fair?
[His hand starts its slow path back upward, taking its sweet time. The other hand pinches again, firm, and rolls her nipple gently between thumb and finger]
[This time the whine goes low, at the back of her throat, and she bites deep into her lower lip to keep the sound from growing. Her legs chafe around his questing hand, inviting it to continue north, if only to dip above the hem of her shorts.]
You're--such an asshole.
[Her face is flushed, expression straining with the effort of attempting to look properly irritated, or at least not as obviously aroused. Of course, the more he works over her chest the shakier she gets, hips restless and nipples clearly pebbled through her thin t-shirt, so she's already aiming for a mixed success at best]
[He hums, considering - leaves off pinching and instead scrapes his thumbnail over the pebbled outline of her nipple through the thin fabric]
Depends, I guess.
[His other hand makes it all the way up again - skims over the nub he was paying so much attention to before with barely a brush of his fingertips, and instead carries on up to her hip, rucking up her shirt slightly]
[He goes readily enough, sucking in a breath at how eager she is - at the way she pulls him closer]
I dunno, dude. I thought I was supposed to be making a mess outta you.
[But he relents, finally; his fingers trail up under her shirt, skimming over the bare skin of her stomach, before slipping lower to pop the button on her slacks. The zipper eases slowly down, and then he's teasing at the soft skin just under the waistband of her underwear]
[Another soft pinch to her nipple - a tug - and his other hand drifts lower, sliding beneath the fabric of pants and panties both to see what he finds]
[She wriggles closer with anticipation, maybe not a true mess, but a good ways from tidy so far. Her skin trembles as he finally gives her more contact; she hisses at the tug at her breast even as she chases after the touch.
She makes a similar sound as his fingers finally venture into her panties, shaky and wanting. Within is already hot and slick, and he can likely feel her pulse racing through her flushed lips. Greedy, she arches up against him, as if attempting to steal what contact she can before he changes his mind]
[His voice is hushed - awed again, almost, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to her cheek. His fingers venture further back, seeking the heat and the slickness, and he curls them gently, a come-hither sort of gesture that drags them in between her lips, to end on that sensitive nub]
You're so pretty like this.
[His other hand hasn't let up - is tugging gently at her nipple, almost distractedly, as he tries to pay attantion to her expression and the motion of her hips and the sounds she's making all at once]
[She makes a fresh one, choked in the back of her throat, though whether it's at his hands or his words is difficult to tell. Either way she looks away from him, flush deepening and heat going up her ears]
That's--lewd...
[Her tone is breathless and strained, and despite the words she doesn't manage not to shudder against his fingers nevertheless, carefully rolling against him to press up into the drag of his fingers for long moments]
[He presses two of his fingers together - begins to rub, soft but steady, against the hood of her clit, the motion slick with her juices]
S'true, though.
[The other hand, the one still busy with her breast, leaves off the gentle pulls; instead, his thumb rests against nub visible through the fabric, begining an idle back and forth]
[The answer is likely to the latter statement, though from how wet she is and how she chases after him with each movement, she doesn't seem to have any complaints with any of his actions, regardless of where they are and who can see, so perhaps it works for both.
Either way, her restless shifting only increases as he changes tacks. After the second attempt at continuing to speak that ends up as more of a groan than anything, she tugs him closer again, attempting to kiss at whatever of him she can reach]
[He makes a startled sort of sound when she pulls him in for a kiss - goes readily, leaning in to deepen the kiss and settle against her]
[It gives him a better angle, and space to work his hand deeper into her pants. His fingers leave her clit and drift backward, trailing between her lips, and his palm comes to settle against her clit, making small circles]
[It's easy to settle closer; she's yielding and warm and whimpers each stroke into his mouth as she rocks on his hand, audibly slick as she sinks around his fingers at an increasingly shaky pace.
In return, her own skim over his sides, flick mindlessly over his chest and the hem of his shirt with another whine]
[He makes an appreciative sound into the kiss - at the way she's moving or at the restless path of her hands, it's impossible to tell]
[His hand keeps up its pace, those same small circles that drag the flat of his palm and the ball of his thumb firm over the sensitive nub at the front while shifting his fingers further back. He makes no move to press further inward - lets them trail between her lips, gathering moisture, curling occassionally to shift the angle a little]
[A fresh groan as he does, the sporadic brushes over her entrance a knee-weakening addition to the steady, focused pressure over her clit. Even muffled by his mouth her voice begins to rise, needy, as her hips shudder inevitably forward.
Her legs strain with purpose, and the movements of her hands go even more distracted, rucking up his shirt and running down past his back as if she can't quite touch enough of him--as if this close still isn't quite enough]
[He hums, as though considering - leans in, to whisper into her ear]
...pretty sure I could make you more of a mess than this.
[He presses a careful kiss to her jaw, palm still working against her in wet circles]
I'll keep it for when we ain't out in the open, though.
[Another kiss, just as gentle]
Go on. You been waiting, right?
[His hand speeds its pace, a little; on the down strokes, his fingers dip in a little further, not enough to enter but certainly more present than the light brushes from before]
[She looks both deeply embarrassed and deeply aroused at his order--at his promise--at the simple confidence in how easily his deft fingers could keep her edging for an eternity.
And even though a part of her hates to give in so easily, even to him, the rest aches with need--she has been waiting, and just because she could be teased further doesn't make her less of a mess now, and as his hands start to move with that much more purpose, they catch her far too close to the edge to refuse his invitation even if she'd wanted to.
Instead she grinds harder against his cool fingers, all pretense at discretion falling away along with the last of her control. Her hands scrabble at his back as she slips over the edge--calls out his name in a shaky moan, damp lashes scrunched against wine-dark cheeks, as her whole body shudders hard from tip to toe, a tremblor stretching on and on and on as she clenches around him]
[His breath catches at the sound of his name on her lips like that - at the urgent scrabble of her hands, and the way she trembles, and the blatant way she grinds against him, lost in the moment despite where they are]
[His hand keeps working her through it, gentle but intent, drawing the pleasure out; his eyes flicker over her face, taking in the sight of her]
Jesus. Look at you.
[His voice is hushed again - a little awed - and he leans forward, careful, to press another of those soft kisses to her jaw]
[It's a long, hazy moment before she can do anything but shiver, shamelessly bucking against him as instead of peaking, he continues to tease her out, pleasure continuing to swell. She keens out his name again in a needy whine; sloppily chases after his kiss with that same desperation]
[He draws in a sharp breath at the sound of that needy whine - leans into the kiss readily. It's deeper this, time, with more heat; he laps between her lips and kisses her slow and thorough]
[His hand hasn't stopped moving, yet, firm circles and slick brushes of his fingers. It's focused and careful, waiting for her shudders to subside - not wanting to accidentally cut the finish short. His other hand reaches between them again, thumb brushing over her nipple, that same idle back and forth from before]
[Despite starting the kiss, she's barely able to keep up, panting open mouthed as he licks deeper--her muscles trembling like held bowstrings at the weight of him--at the heat of his mouth and the intensity of his kiss and perhaps it comes as no surprise that rather than cut things short, all his attention sends her tumbling towards another high.
She lets out another whimper, not that she's been all that quiet to begin with; her legs shift, feet bracing against the ground so she can judder closer into the sweet, steady press of his hands.
And it doesn't take much more than that--she's sent over the edge once again, eyes squeezed shut, the rest of her clenched tight around him as she groans around his tongue]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Her cheek is blazing hot under his lips, and her eager press into his hand is just about as subtle. When she goes to respond to his quip no words come out, and from the way her eyelids flutter low for slow, steady beats, he's lived up to his ideal of being a distraction]
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[Which is to say, he keeps up the distraction - that same steady back and forth of a single finger, too muted by the fabric of her pants and almost certainly too slow]
[And while she's distracted, he shifts a little - adjusts his own position, to free up more of the arm pressed to the ground - reaches, almost casually, to thumb at her nipple through the fabric of her shirt]
Love and wargs? Love and watermelon?
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[She startles out a cry at the unexpected brush over her chest; bucks up encouragingly against that too-slow finger before she can stop herself. She makes as if to grip at his wrist for lack of idea of what else to do]
F-fuck that ain't fair.
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[The finger between her legs is joined by a second finger, and it presses a little firmer - begins to rub a little faster, picking up the pace for a long few seconds]
Well... I don't wanna be unfair.
[Then it leaves off entirely, beginning the long, slow path away again, tracing soft touches over the skin of her inner thigh and down to her knee. When it reaches the bottom of its descent, the thumb of the hand she's still holding onto brushes over her chest again - comes together with his index finger and pinches, light]
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That's super not fair--rr--ah--
[Her voice catches at the pinch, going high pitched and breathless and much less even than she'd originally intended. Her grip on his wrist tightens reflexively as she shivers closer into his touch]
Jacob...
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...what ain't fair?
[His hand starts its slow path back upward, taking its sweet time. The other hand pinches again, firm, and rolls her nipple gently between thumb and finger]
Gonna have to be more specific than that.
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You're--such an asshole.
[Her face is flushed, expression straining with the effort of attempting to look properly irritated, or at least not as obviously aroused. Of course, the more he works over her chest the shakier she gets, hips restless and nipples clearly pebbled through her thin t-shirt, so she's already aiming for a mixed success at best]
How...how long're you planning on playing around?
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Depends, I guess.
[His other hand makes it all the way up again - skims over the nub he was paying so much attention to before with barely a brush of his fingertips, and instead carries on up to her hip, rucking up her shirt slightly]
How long do you want me to play around?
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[She forgets not to arch into his touch, or not to reach for his waist to encourage him closer, or maybe just to hold onto something]
Jacob... C'mon, stop being a tease...
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I dunno, dude. I thought I was supposed to be making a mess outta you.
[But he relents, finally; his fingers trail up under her shirt, skimming over the bare skin of her stomach, before slipping lower to pop the button on her slacks. The zipper eases slowly down, and then he's teasing at the soft skin just under the waistband of her underwear]
[Another soft pinch to her nipple - a tug - and his other hand drifts lower, sliding beneath the fabric of pants and panties both to see what he finds]
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[She wriggles closer with anticipation, maybe not a true mess, but a good ways from tidy so far. Her skin trembles as he finally gives her more contact; she hisses at the tug at her breast even as she chases after the touch.
She makes a similar sound as his fingers finally venture into her panties, shaky and wanting. Within is already hot and slick, and he can likely feel her pulse racing through her flushed lips. Greedy, she arches up against him, as if attempting to steal what contact she can before he changes his mind]
no subject
[His voice is hushed - awed again, almost, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to her cheek. His fingers venture further back, seeking the heat and the slickness, and he curls them gently, a come-hither sort of gesture that drags them in between her lips, to end on that sensitive nub]
You're so pretty like this.
[His other hand hasn't let up - is tugging gently at her nipple, almost distractedly, as he tries to pay attantion to her expression and the motion of her hips and the sounds she's making all at once]
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That's--lewd...
[Her tone is breathless and strained, and despite the words she doesn't manage not to shudder against his fingers nevertheless, carefully rolling against him to press up into the drag of his fingers for long moments]
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[He presses two of his fingers together - begins to rub, soft but steady, against the hood of her clit, the motion slick with her juices]
S'true, though.
[The other hand, the one still busy with her breast, leaves off the gentle pulls; instead, his thumb rests against nub visible through the fabric, begining an idle back and forth]
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[The answer is likely to the latter statement, though from how wet she is and how she chases after him with each movement, she doesn't seem to have any complaints with any of his actions, regardless of where they are and who can see, so perhaps it works for both.
Either way, her restless shifting only increases as he changes tacks. After the second attempt at continuing to speak that ends up as more of a groan than anything, she tugs him closer again, attempting to kiss at whatever of him she can reach]
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[He makes a startled sort of sound when she pulls him in for a kiss - goes readily, leaning in to deepen the kiss and settle against her]
[It gives him a better angle, and space to work his hand deeper into her pants. His fingers leave her clit and drift backward, trailing between her lips, and his palm comes to settle against her clit, making small circles]
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In return, her own skim over his sides, flick mindlessly over his chest and the hem of his shirt with another whine]
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[His hand keeps up its pace, those same small circles that drag the flat of his palm and the ball of his thumb firm over the sensitive nub at the front while shifting his fingers further back. He makes no move to press further inward - lets them trail between her lips, gathering moisture, curling occassionally to shift the angle a little]
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Her legs strain with purpose, and the movements of her hands go even more distracted, rucking up his shirt and running down past his back as if she can't quite touch enough of him--as if this close still isn't quite enough]
Jacob... Can-- I-I'm gonna...
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...pretty sure I could make you more of a mess than this.
[He presses a careful kiss to her jaw, palm still working against her in wet circles]
I'll keep it for when we ain't out in the open, though.
[Another kiss, just as gentle]
Go on. You been waiting, right?
[His hand speeds its pace, a little; on the down strokes, his fingers dip in a little further, not enough to enter but certainly more present than the light brushes from before]
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And even though a part of her hates to give in so easily, even to him, the rest aches with need--she has been waiting, and just because she could be teased further doesn't make her less of a mess now, and as his hands start to move with that much more purpose, they catch her far too close to the edge to refuse his invitation even if she'd wanted to.
Instead she grinds harder against his cool fingers, all pretense at discretion falling away along with the last of her control. Her hands scrabble at his back as she slips over the edge--calls out his name in a shaky moan, damp lashes scrunched against wine-dark cheeks, as her whole body shudders hard from tip to toe, a tremblor stretching on and on and on as she clenches around him]
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[His hand keeps working her through it, gentle but intent, drawing the pleasure out; his eyes flicker over her face, taking in the sight of her]
Jesus. Look at you.
[His voice is hushed again - a little awed - and he leans forward, careful, to press another of those soft kisses to her jaw]
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[His hand hasn't stopped moving, yet, firm circles and slick brushes of his fingers. It's focused and careful, waiting for her shudders to subside - not wanting to accidentally cut the finish short. His other hand reaches between them again, thumb brushing over her nipple, that same idle back and forth from before]
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She lets out another whimper, not that she's been all that quiet to begin with; her legs shift, feet bracing against the ground so she can judder closer into the sweet, steady press of his hands.
And it doesn't take much more than that--she's sent over the edge once again, eyes squeezed shut, the rest of her clenched tight around him as she groans around his tongue]
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