[ His hand slides over to her stomach, palm flat against her skin, fingers pointed down toward her mound. He smiles a little, feeling the way she cants herself toward his touch, the way her fingers tangle in his hair.
He soaks in the little sounds she makes, the little twitches of movement, drinks in the sight of where her lashes lie against the curve of her cheek. They're little gestures of trust, of vulnerability – hardly anything, for almost anyone else, but they speak volumes from Gamora. It makes something twist in his chest, stealing his breath, before he can wrangle it into a one of his confident, crooked smiles. ]
That sounds doable.
[ The tone is light, but there's a hoarseness undercutting it, betraying the way desire simmers low in his gut.
His mouth finds the other side of her neck, and he nudges her back to lie on the bed. ]
no subject
He soaks in the little sounds she makes, the little twitches of movement, drinks in the sight of where her lashes lie against the curve of her cheek. They're little gestures of trust, of vulnerability – hardly anything, for almost anyone else, but they speak volumes from Gamora. It makes something twist in his chest, stealing his breath, before he can wrangle it into a one of his confident, crooked smiles. ]
That sounds doable.
[ The tone is light, but there's a hoarseness undercutting it, betraying the way desire simmers low in his gut.
His mouth finds the other side of her neck, and he nudges her back to lie on the bed. ]