[A catch 22 there, as she likes him right where he is, and doesn't want him to move, but also that little hindrance of the rest of their attire. A pity there had been no spell for the removal of clothing in the Belmont library, given the nature of some of the items items she had found, as Sypha would have worked on that until she had mastered it. No, there is no such luck.
Her own hands glide, his locks like silk between her fingers, until she cups his cheeks, angling his face upwards to meet her own downward kiss. There's nothing chaste about it, although there is a tenderness, something that transmits all her affection towards him, her love and devotion.
Yet her fingers drop from his face, letting her kisses keep him there, as they brush down his chest, feeling the bump of his ribs, skirting around his abdomen, until they find his pants. He looks quite nice in them, but better still without them as her fingers search for those all too familiar items that are in her way. One buckle, than the other, for his belts, giving a little nip in to the kiss as her palm brushes over his lap, before her fingers move to start the process of removing his pants.
She'll have to rise, she knows, but not quite yet as her hand moves. Teasing again against that bulge, she gives a light rub before she takes a detour, slipping his hand beneath the waist band. That hum against his lips as she finds him, fingers circling around his length.]
no subject
[A catch 22 there, as she likes him right where he is, and doesn't want him to move, but also that little hindrance of the rest of their attire. A pity there had been no spell for the removal of clothing in the Belmont library, given the nature of some of the items items she had found, as Sypha would have worked on that until she had mastered it. No, there is no such luck.
Her own hands glide, his locks like silk between her fingers, until she cups his cheeks, angling his face upwards to meet her own downward kiss. There's nothing chaste about it, although there is a tenderness, something that transmits all her affection towards him, her love and devotion.
Yet her fingers drop from his face, letting her kisses keep him there, as they brush down his chest, feeling the bump of his ribs, skirting around his abdomen, until they find his pants. He looks quite nice in them, but better still without them as her fingers search for those all too familiar items that are in her way. One buckle, than the other, for his belts, giving a little nip in to the kiss as her palm brushes over his lap, before her fingers move to start the process of removing his pants.
She'll have to rise, she knows, but not quite yet as her hand moves. Teasing again against that bulge, she gives a light rub before she takes a detour, slipping his hand beneath the waist band. That hum against his lips as she finds him, fingers circling around his length.]