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The Winter Soldier

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Date: 2014-08-02 06:42 pm (UTC)
regimes_fall: (030)
From: [personal profile] regimes_fall
The warm press of his mouth against her palm brings her back to sharp reality, and she becomes suddenly, achingly aware of how real it all is. There is a faint thought to the consequences, fleeting and easily dismissed despite how utterly aware she is that she is never allowed anything that feels this good, anything that feels as right as his mouth on her skin without paying for it in some way or another. It all matters so little next to the press of him between her thighs, the grip of his hand on her leg as he hitches it higher and presses tighter against her, an action that has her moaning softly and without artifice. He is not the first man to fit himself between her thighs, but he is surely the first she’s welcomed there of her own volition. Desire has never been anything more than a feigned tactic, but in that moment the overwhelming reality of what she wants from him is almost more than she can take.

She goes eagerly into the kiss, unable to help herself any more than he is, and moans yet again when his lips part and she is able to taste him. Her hands slip up to fist in his hair, her free leg lifts to wrap around the backs of his thighs and anchor herself as her hips roll up against his, and she shudders against him at even that much friction. She doesn’t know his true name, so she does not moan it against his lips. Instead she breaks the kiss just long enough to suck longingly at his bottom lip and whisper, “please.”
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