[Her fingers crook tighter into his scalp, encouragement that he’d be remiss to ignore, never mind the fact that he rather likes the sensation. His teeth pinch down a little harder, his hands want to wander elsewhere — Touch me more, she says, and Sephiroth only wants to comply.
Again, his leg rucks up harder between her legs, but then eases back in what leeway her grasp allows him. Sephiroth slips a hand between them, cupping at her, feeling the warmth rising, frustratingly blocked by a layer of cloth.
But it’s nice to know the contour and heat of her beneath his fingertips. His other hand braces at her hip, thumbing at the band of her pants. The question is not spoken, but so very easily implied — Off?]
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Again, his leg rucks up harder between her legs, but then eases back in what leeway her grasp allows him. Sephiroth slips a hand between them, cupping at her, feeling the warmth rising, frustratingly blocked by a layer of cloth.
But it’s nice to know the contour and heat of her beneath his fingertips. His other hand braces at her hip, thumbing at the band of her pants. The question is not spoken, but so very easily implied — Off?]