Re: Third Class ; Dining
She held her breath as she let her hands drift to her sides, watching, unable to look away or even blink. Anticipation made her head spin, and it crested in a wave of dizzying pleasure at the feel of his hands on her skin, followed by his mouth, and she inhaled sharply, lips parting into an 'o' as she tried and failed to regain some semblance of control. She slid her fingers back into his hair, more of a caress than a tug, and his ministrations to her breasts drew forth whimpers that started quiet and grew louder, her tongue loosening as her pleasure spiked.
Before, the fallen angel might have been content with warm kisses and tentative touches, but now she wanted. Her pupils were dilated, her chest rose and fell with the force of her breathing, and still she craved more. Even if she didn't understand why, she recognized the feeling for what it was. "I want you too," she whispered, kissing him impulsively a moment later. "Take. Take it. Take me." The words were spoken against his mouth, and she took his hands and put them on the tangled hem of her dress, inching it upward a bit and hoping he caught the hint. It was long, her dress, but she was bare beneath it, and she had enough secondhand knowledge to understand, albeit clumsily, how things were supposed to happen.