[If she grins, there's a trace of wolfishness in it.]
We have lots of practice.
[And she has been waiting for him to be sensible. She tips her face up faintly toward him given the sweep of his hand pushing back the pin straight curtain of her hair. It's a languid angle, her mouth all easy and her pale eyes heavy, but she makes no move to wind him tighter to her. Her hands are idle and there's a stability to the slope of her angled shoulders that suggests she has no interest in goading him.
Not physically anyway. Let him decide what to do with his hands, where to place his knee and weight, how she's to be managed by him. It's only fair to let him have the physicality of this if the shape of her mind is shifting up against the link between them: spreading open like ink blooming through a water wash.]
no subject
We have lots of practice.
[And she has been waiting for him to be sensible. She tips her face up faintly toward him given the sweep of his hand pushing back the pin straight curtain of her hair. It's a languid angle, her mouth all easy and her pale eyes heavy, but she makes no move to wind him tighter to her. Her hands are idle and there's a stability to the slope of her angled shoulders that suggests she has no interest in goading him.
Not physically anyway. Let him decide what to do with his hands, where to place his knee and weight, how she's to be managed by him. It's only fair to let him have the physicality of this if the shape of her mind is shifting up against the link between them: spreading open like ink blooming through a water wash.]