[ The sound she makes when his tongue meets the roof of her mouth is akin to a gasp, the feel of him making her toes curl, her stomach tighten, and her grip strengthens around him. He explores her body readily and she desperately wants to do the same, hand pressed against his back finding the lines and contours she seeks. But he's wearing too much, she thinks, and she brings her hand around to his front until it is pressed flat against his chest. He rolls his hips into hers and a quiet, thin whine bubbles up from her throat, one she would be embarrassed by if she was not so certain he wants more of the same. His answering moan is all that's necessary to make that clear. She chases his lips as he tugs at her own, body moving towards his instinctively with every shift, greedy as she is for contact.
As Cullen seeks out her throat, pressing hard kisses and nips to her sensitive skin, her hands join together at his front to begin looking for the catches of his clothes and armor so that she might explore to her heart's contentment. Neria looks for the things he can discard, his outer fur mantle and leathers being first and foremost, much as she likes the former (as any Fereldan would). But she looks, too, for the quickest way to find warm skin, to slide her hands up under his tunic so she might touch muscle beneath. He has had his moment to touch her; now she wants to touch him back.
Beneath his mouth, she shivers, every part of her sensitive to his attentions. It has been such a long time since someone has touched her this way and never someone she has felt so close to, someone she has loved so much. Head tilted just slightly back to allow him room to explore, her pulse thrums quickly, heartbeat fluttering with every graze of his teeth and suckle of his lips.
With a brief and breathless chuckle, she murmurs: ]
no subject
As Cullen seeks out her throat, pressing hard kisses and nips to her sensitive skin, her hands join together at his front to begin looking for the catches of his clothes and armor so that she might explore to her heart's contentment. Neria looks for the things he can discard, his outer fur mantle and leathers being first and foremost, much as she likes the former (as any Fereldan would). But she looks, too, for the quickest way to find warm skin, to slide her hands up under his tunic so she might touch muscle beneath. He has had his moment to touch her; now she wants to touch him back.
Beneath his mouth, she shivers, every part of her sensitive to his attentions. It has been such a long time since someone has touched her this way and never someone she has felt so close to, someone she has loved so much. Head tilted just slightly back to allow him room to explore, her pulse thrums quickly, heartbeat fluttering with every graze of his teeth and suckle of his lips.
With a brief and breathless chuckle, she murmurs: ]
You're wearing too much.