[ Trailing his hands over her body, Tseng draws a map, but it isn’t one that will help him find the way back. They’ve simply gotten lost together, not in an eerie or unpleasing place. Her words unmoor him, Tseng will be further lost if she lets him drift like that. His fingers thread deeper into her hair, he grounds himself against the tide. They might not actually be that much farther than on the outskirts of their previous relationship.
Tseng breaks the deluge of kisses, but only barely. ] Aerith... [ It’s soft and velvety to say without admonishment or warning or, in further depths, even concern attached. His voice is low, rough, and edged with the need to have her name on it. And his eyes are sharp and intent. She doesn’t know what she’s asking of him, or perhaps she does... She surely does. The kiss he returns to her is searing, possessive, a declaration of everything he’s been holding back in exchange for hundreds of hers.
Aerith, too, is in possession of him. She pulls him close by the hair and entraps him between her thighs, contracting any millimeter of space still gaping between them. Tseng’s breath shudders. She must feel him growing hard against her.
He answers her plea with action instead of hesitation. He pulls his hand out of her hair and slides his thumb back down her throat and to her breast. Squeezing hardly, her skin still dents in the shape of his fingertips. Keeping her beneath his palm other side, he runs it from her chest to her back, to the small of it, and to her buttock. And lower still. Slipping between her legs and his thigh, Tseng’s long fingers pass by her entrance. ]
no subject
Tseng breaks the deluge of kisses, but only barely. ] Aerith... [ It’s soft and velvety to say without admonishment or warning or, in further depths, even concern attached. His voice is low, rough, and edged with the need to have her name on it. And his eyes are sharp and intent. She doesn’t know what she’s asking of him, or perhaps she does... She surely does. The kiss he returns to her is searing, possessive, a declaration of everything he’s been holding back in exchange for hundreds of hers.
Aerith, too, is in possession of him. She pulls him close by the hair and entraps him between her thighs, contracting any millimeter of space still gaping between them. Tseng’s breath shudders. She must feel him growing hard against her.
He answers her plea with action instead of hesitation. He pulls his hand out of her hair and slides his thumb back down her throat and to her breast. Squeezing hardly, her skin still dents in the shape of his fingertips. Keeping her beneath his palm other side, he runs it from her chest to her back, to the small of it, and to her buttock. And lower still. Slipping between her legs and his thigh, Tseng’s long fingers pass by her entrance. ]