UNPROMPTED . ) always accepting . @scarrborn He knows what to do with her, broad hands cupping and massaging her soft mounds. He rubs them right out of her dress, teeth along her neck. “I love how they bounce for me,” he growls, giving her hips a thrust with his own, letting her feel the bulge that’s waiting for her. “So distracting...Kneel. Wrap them around my cock. I wanna see how nice it fits.”
crude , perverse , he ever lacks common decency with words that worm beneath her skin and makes her shiver : a chill that burrows through once thought impenetrable fortress , strikes at the heart , and she sings sweet surrender . he , like forbidden sin / like cantharides , an inhibition she should not indulge , but he returns , kisses her and caresses cool flesh in divine worship , and she , the solitary fox in the middle of nowhere , falls further into his embrace
❛ how crass ❜ the barest letter of disapproval formulates response , but lacks the usual scathing tone , lacks the brutality of their first encounter : something sweeter about her biting critique , concealing fluster / concealing wavering fortitude / concealing her eroding denial . how crass , ziva says , as though his demand is one out of the question , nigh unthinkable fruit of an audacious demeanour , yet , barely a second later , she complies
