Somehow crossing this line doesn’t feel abrupt, and instead it’s the slow erosion and steady slippery slope of their friendship which eventually brought them here: his face buried in her cunt, her fingers twining into his hair, the scrape of her nails and the push of her heel all pressing him towards her.
Oh, so she’s loud, Stephen finds himself thinking, marveling (although in hindsight why was he surprised?), and this is another new and delightful piece of information he now knows about Gwenaëlle. Filing away these details: the particular keening noise she makes when his tongue finds her clit and circles. The way her hips buck up against him and the muscles in his forearm — built from training, sparring, more combat than he would have seen before his life turned towards sorcery — strain to press her back down into the mattress, holding her in place firm enough no matter the potential bruising.
Because he’s a stubborn perfectionist and he is single-minded, once he’s put himself to a task, and right now the task is to make her keep making those noises. The sound of his name rendered so inarticulate, the best he’s ever heard it.
It turns out this is a good way to shut him up, mouth otherwise singularly occupied, no quips or banter, just Stephen’s beard scraping against her thigh and his erection digging into the mattress where he’s sprawled over her. His jaw moves; and then, scientific, let’s try this, his free hand moves and the press of his fingers soon joins his tongue.
no subject
Oh, so she’s loud, Stephen finds himself thinking, marveling (although in hindsight why was he surprised?), and this is another new and delightful piece of information he now knows about Gwenaëlle. Filing away these details: the particular keening noise she makes when his tongue finds her clit and circles. The way her hips buck up against him and the muscles in his forearm — built from training, sparring, more combat than he would have seen before his life turned towards sorcery — strain to press her back down into the mattress, holding her in place firm enough no matter the potential bruising.
Because he’s a stubborn perfectionist and he is single-minded, once he’s put himself to a task, and right now the task is to make her keep making those noises. The sound of his name rendered so inarticulate, the best he’s ever heard it.
It turns out this is a good way to shut him up, mouth otherwise singularly occupied, no quips or banter, just Stephen’s beard scraping against her thigh and his erection digging into the mattress where he’s sprawled over her. His jaw moves; and then, scientific, let’s try this, his free hand moves and the press of his fingers soon joins his tongue.