[ His lips tremble at the way your voice echoes in his ear and his stomach instinctively caves at your touch, the muscles there taut and quivering.
It's not the words, actually, that turns him on, but the cadence of your voice, the distinct way that it winds around what you're telling him and how you describe the things he knows you could do if you set your mind to it.
Another swallow then, as he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, the firmness of your grip on his jaw limiting his movements. It's always fascinated him, so much that he prefers not to dwell on the fact that for all that you're shorter than him and seemingly frail to the eye given the amount of layers you're so fond of wearing -- you could overpower him without a second thought.
His heart is beating faster now, and he's struggling to keep his breathing even. You're going to draw this out and he loves you for it, but he can't deny how frustrating it is that you paint him the image and yet you're not touching him enough. ]
no subject
It's not the words, actually, that turns him on, but the cadence of your voice, the distinct way that it winds around what you're telling him and how you describe the things he knows you could do if you set your mind to it.
Another swallow then, as he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, the firmness of your grip on his jaw limiting his movements. It's always fascinated him, so much that he prefers not to dwell on the fact that for all that you're shorter than him and seemingly frail to the eye given the amount of layers you're so fond of wearing -- you could overpower him without a second thought.
His heart is beating faster now, and he's struggling to keep his breathing even. You're going to draw this out and he loves you for it, but he can't deny how frustrating it is that you paint him the image and yet you're not touching him enough. ]