( Prompto is aware of the significance of going to her place as opposed to his. The realization that this is the first time such a suggestion had been made was not lost on him. Rather it was just sort of &mdash momentarily subdued in favour of the feel of her against him, the pounding rush of blood coursing through him, the way her hips lift to allow him to slide panties down her thighs and discard somewhere on the floor. The intimacy of it will hit him later. That she's allowing him into her space, this place that was hers and hers alone.
Lips drag across her neck. One hand palming at her breast through her shirt, the other sliding up a bare thigh. And really he was screwed the moment she'd shown up in a skirt, thinking about this exact moment.
There's a brief second of a thought that he should think of something smoother to say in reply. That someone else might find something better to say. But it's a thought gone quickly as the first reply he does think of tumbles from his lips. )
You have me…
( He drops to his knees, cheek pressing into the softness of her thigh as fingers curl around the limb. He turns, nuzzles a little before pressing lips softly to the skin. A hand snakes up, fingers brushing in a teasing lightness against the apex of her her thighs as he sucks a mark into her skin. )
[ the thing is, there was always intimacy hidden within her; even when it wasn't wanted, when there held no place for it, but prompto... each time he had her, each time the two were left a mess of scattered breaths and dazed giggling, faint touches to lips and hair, he'd earned a little bit more of her. more of her as crowe, a woman; not the glaive she wore about on the streets, the armor she needed to veil herself unrecognizably within at a moments notice. it all came with being under the crown guard. it all came with being alone.
she's always bruised easily, flesh never quite learning to adapt to her training as bones and muscles did; she can feel the vivid hue being drawn to the surface of her skin at the mercy of his mouth, leaning a single hand back against the counter while the other loses itself amongst golden strands. an encouraging rut of hips is given. she was still getting used to this taunting thing, the lead up, that not everything was take take take.
she can't be sure he knows what she means. the magnitude of her want. really, she wasn't sure she knew herself. it's those skilled fingers of his that leave head tipping back, moon's glow cast through the room accentuating the curve of her chest, dip of her collars from disheveled collar of her top. ]Prompto...
no subject
Lips drag across her neck. One hand palming at her breast through her shirt, the other sliding up a bare thigh. And really he was screwed the moment she'd shown up in a skirt, thinking about this exact moment.
There's a brief second of a thought that he should think of something smoother to say in reply. That someone else might find something better to say. But it's a thought gone quickly as the first reply he does think of tumbles from his lips. )
You have me…
( He drops to his knees, cheek pressing into the softness of her thigh as fingers curl around the limb. He turns, nuzzles a little before pressing lips softly to the skin. A hand snakes up, fingers brushing in a teasing lightness against the apex of her her thighs as he sucks a mark into her skin. )
no subject
she's always bruised easily, flesh never quite learning to adapt to her training as bones and muscles did; she can feel the vivid hue being drawn to the surface of her skin at the mercy of his mouth, leaning a single hand back against the counter while the other loses itself amongst golden strands. an encouraging rut of hips is given. she was still getting used to this taunting thing, the lead up, that not everything was take take take.
she can't be sure he knows what she means. the magnitude of her want. really, she wasn't sure she knew herself. it's those skilled fingers of his that leave head tipping back, moon's glow cast through the room accentuating the curve of her chest, dip of her collars from disheveled collar of her top. ] Prompto...