[ Feeling and hearing her let go of a little more control for the sake of desire is intoxicating. Kurt follows her movements, shifting up onto his knees, tail curling in delighted spirals behind him as he presses even deeper into her, stroking long wide circles of her inner heat as he echoes the movements with his tongue. Each tremble and ripple of her muscles seems to echo through his own body; he's hard enough now that the soft cotton of Frank's sweatpants is starting to become both damp and frustrating.
He plays out the thread of his own patience against her ability to take it, greedy for as much of her as he can get but unable to decide what he wants the ultimate outcome to be. Finally, he can't stand it any more; leaving one hand still working inside her, he moves up along her body, pausing for a moment to study the play of her arousal across her face. ]
Ah, Fräulein, you are beautiful.
[ He leans down, close enough to feel her breath against his mouth, but denying her, for the moment, that contact. His thumb finds her clit again, moving faster this time. ] I can't wait to see what you look like when you come.
[ His fingers are longer, thicker, and even one has the capability to thoroughly unravel her; she closes her eyes for what feels like a second and then the next time she opens them, he's there hovering above her, mouth drifting inches away from her own, so close she could surge up and kiss him if she wanted to while he works his hand against her harder, faster, prompts a soft whimper into the space between his face and hers.
Her hands slip into the sheets beneath her to grip on either side of her body and she's straining, vibrating with the need to come and the knowledge that he'll get her there, that he'll be the one solely responsible for getting her off while Frank's downstairs, that one loud moan from her could give them away completely — and she can't deny that she almost wants them to be discovered like this, or even one step further.
She's hovering on that edge and one more circle of his thumb on her clit takes her over it, and she does lift up to kiss him then, stifling her cry before collapsing back to writhe, to ride out the waves of sensation, flushed and breathless. When she finally stills, it only takes a second for her lips to twitch up into a slow grin and she slips a hand between them to shove beneath the waistband of his borrowed sweatpants and establish a gentle, sliding grip with her fingers. ]
no subject
He plays out the thread of his own patience against her ability to take it, greedy for as much of her as he can get but unable to decide what he wants the ultimate outcome to be. Finally, he can't stand it any more; leaving one hand still working inside her, he moves up along her body, pausing for a moment to study the play of her arousal across her face. ]
Ah, Fräulein, you are beautiful.
[ He leans down, close enough to feel her breath against his mouth, but denying her, for the moment, that contact. His thumb finds her clit again, moving faster this time. ] I can't wait to see what you look like when you come.
no subject
[ His fingers are longer, thicker, and even one has the capability to thoroughly unravel her; she closes her eyes for what feels like a second and then the next time she opens them, he's there hovering above her, mouth drifting inches away from her own, so close she could surge up and kiss him if she wanted to while he works his hand against her harder, faster, prompts a soft whimper into the space between his face and hers.
Her hands slip into the sheets beneath her to grip on either side of her body and she's straining, vibrating with the need to come and the knowledge that he'll get her there, that he'll be the one solely responsible for getting her off while Frank's downstairs, that one loud moan from her could give them away completely — and she can't deny that she almost wants them to be discovered like this, or even one step further.
She's hovering on that edge and one more circle of his thumb on her clit takes her over it, and she does lift up to kiss him then, stifling her cry before collapsing back to writhe, to ride out the waves of sensation, flushed and breathless. When she finally stills, it only takes a second for her lips to twitch up into a slow grin and she slips a hand between them to shove beneath the waistband of his borrowed sweatpants and establish a gentle, sliding grip with her fingers. ]
Your turn.