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Brynhild Ingouf (brynhild_ingouf) wrote in entrywaythreads,

She had only a moment to admire what lay beneath that red tee, but a moment, while not all she wanted, was enough to give her imagination enough to work with. And then it was as if he'd been chained with that first kiss, only for that chain to break free the moment his lips touched her skin. She had felt wantonness, need... but this was different. And her own fires were stoked by it. Her body flowed freely with the his touch, his lips, his fingers... her flesh craved each stroke. Her heart pounded, chest heaved with each panted breath. That was until his fingers found their way under her shirt, and she sucked in a breath.

Bryn had not remained unattentive beneath such attention: one hand had slid up to cup the back of his head, fingers threading through the short hairs, but not to hold him anywhere. Her neck had shifted as he kissed making sure to give ample room, while her other hand found the front of his shirt. Fingers dragging slowly along the fabric, until his touched her bare skin, then they knotted in the soft cotton. Her legs had parted to welcome him closer, only for her ankles to cross behind him.

The one thought, beyond the feel of him, was that she had wished she'd made a different wardrobe decision. A skirt would have been a better choice. No matter how nice the denim fit her.