They had been liberated. Their clothes, their inhibitions, even the gravity that secured them to Asgard's ground. Where they were going, Jimmy and Kitty didn't need roads. The Native engulfed his being into Kitty's energy both sexual and otherwise. When she'd touched him, freed his body from the discomfort of his slacks, something primal had rippled through the ether. A match had been struck, used to light a fuse, and soon that wick would burn up into nothing.
Eyes still locked, Jimmy worked magic during this prolonged bit of misdirection. His fingers returned to where they'd been before her underwear was lost. They lightly worked while the Apache's hips gave into the attraction between them. But only partial. Two fingers and a tip teased the woman who'd nearly talked herself in circles, unable to describe this was what she wanted. In his soul, Jimmy knew this is want he'd wanted as well. Why did a man blessed with his mystic abilities suddenly become a monk? Unbeknownst to even himself, Warpath had been waiting for someone worthy.
When the gale force wind of Kitty's passion threatened the very foundation of their bubble, Jimmy's hips relented and their bodies were pulled together by a tide of their creation. Jimmy disappeared into Shadowcat, faster than he'd intended and with a force that caused a shockwave. Jimmy's mouth closed down around Kitty's shoulder, though his teeth only lightly pressed on her skin. Warpath didn't dare tempt fate - not now. Kitty's body accepted him in a manner that he'd never experienced before and it made the gentle rocking of his hips almost unbearably pleasurable. His hand had slipped back and found a new zone to playfully harass. All the while his right hand tore away her last remaining piece of clothing and returned the nipple tweaking favor.
Their faces blurred together again but Jimmy playfully kissed her nose before he laid his forehead against hers. "You don't get to wear pants ever again," he proclaimed within their hurricane's eye.