He's sweet, eager for her attentions. She doesn't feel particularly eager to torture him when Joshua could return at any moment, and so she lets a hand dip lower to cup him through his boxers.
"You're this hard and you were willing to ignore it?" She clicks her tongue.
He chuckles against her shoulder, one of his own digging into the back of the couch to brace himself as she touches him. He might just drop, otherwise –– not for the lack of endurance in his arms, but simply for how intense the sensation is. He has to stifle a moan against her skin.
"I've resisted even touching myself to thought of you," he confesses.
He’s freshly rested, if sleepy, but if she wants to take care of him, he’ll let her at least this time. He lifts himself off her entirely, getting a foot on the floor, so she can scoot out.
"In this, I will take full advantage." Including grabbing him to try and flip him onto his back on the sofa, which can only ever happen if he allows it.
He lays down as she guides him over, flopping back into the laundry and spreading his knees for her. His T-shirt hem rides up, showing a flash of his lower abs, and on his back, his cock stands straight up inside his boxers.
“I can only imagine what you’d do with no limitations at all…”
In another timeline, she would have pulled his boxers down and climbed right on top of him. Now, in this one, she merely wedges herself between him and the back of the sofa, even if it means she's mostly on him. What matters is that she can easily reach his cock while kissing along his jaw.
“Entice,” he says, lifting his arm to wrap around her as she settles in. He closes his eyes briefly, letting the sensation of her mouth and fingers wash over him. “And frighten perhaps the smallest bit… but I don’t mind.”
This is comfortable, if not a little cramped. But she kind of likes being cramped with him. She tugs his boxers down so that she can free him, fingers eager for hot skin.
"I'm hardly frightening," she chuckles, hooking a leg over his because she can. "I'm only eager to make you happy."
He’s hard and hot and, as he thinks with some concern, liable to make a significant mess of both of them. He flushes just thinking about it, and looking down to see her slight fingers wrapped around his dick only makes him run hotter.
“It is that very eagerness that gives you power over me,” he murmurs.
"It shouldn't be so when the power only wishes to make you happy," Jill teases, fingertips playing with the head of his cock as he tries to thrust. "You'll learn."
Orgasm comes so fast he can't even warn her; before long, he's spilling milky white come, long, thick ropes onto his own belly and shirt, others caught on her fingers as she jerks him and sliding around with every stroke. The kiss is crushing for an instant and then eases off as he can't do more than seize up, clutching her face and panting into her mouth, eyes rolling back briefly.
Perfect. Every moment is perfect, from the mess between her fingers to the pressure from his hold and his mouth. She moans against his lips, gentle with his cock as she slowly rests it on his belly.
"I've missed that," she says quietly before busying herself with kissing down his jaw to his neck, tongue searching for his pulse as he comes down.
Clive clutches her, the sensation hitting him like a lightning bolt to the gut before it's gone again, leaving him with an odd weightlessness. His chest rises and falls heavily, and he can only nod and breathlessly press a kiss to her forehead, her temple, whatever he can reach in turn.
How a lady like her could enjoy running her fingers through his mess, he'll never understand, but he's glad she does. He chuckles, closing his eyes again.
"Perhaps someday I'll let you."
Right now, that level of attention makes him nervous.
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"You're this hard and you were willing to ignore it?" She clicks her tongue.
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"I've resisted even touching myself to thought of you," he confesses.
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He thrusts against her hand, eager.
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"Switch with me. You're tired," she purrs. Is he? Comfortable, maybe, and as alluring as it is to feel his muscles work, she wants him relaxed.
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He’s freshly rested, if sleepy, but if she wants to take care of him, he’ll let her at least this time. He lifts himself off her entirely, getting a foot on the floor, so she can scoot out.
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“I can only imagine what you’d do with no limitations at all…”
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"Does it entice you or frighten you?"
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"I'm hardly frightening," she chuckles, hooking a leg over his because she can. "I'm only eager to make you happy."
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“It is that very eagerness that gives you power over me,” he murmurs.
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She smiles, stroking him, full lengths up and down. It's more for her than for him, at first--she's missed how he feels in her palm.
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With her on top of him it’s harder to buck up into her hand, but founder, he tries anyway —- he has to do his share of the work, doesn’t he?
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With time and practice.
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"I'll learn," he repeats. Confirms? He isn't sure.
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"I hope I'm worth the wait."
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He needs something to do with his free hand, so he takes her face in his palm and directs it back to him so he can kiss her deeply, hungrily.
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She strokes him with reverence, steady and sure. He deserves all her love despite the bumps in the road. She knows that.
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"I've missed that," she says quietly before busying herself with kissing down his jaw to his neck, tongue searching for his pulse as he comes down.
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"I have too. Thank you."
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"My pleasure," she tells him with a smile and a nuzzle of her nose against his. "I would make you feel like this every day if I could."
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"Perhaps someday I'll let you."
Right now, that level of attention makes him nervous.
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And then, because they're on the damn laundry, she grabs a shirt from behind his head to use to clean them both up.
"Best take your shirt off so I can wash it."
She won't complain about the view.
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What about marleigh
whomst
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