[ Her lips are light on his — not tentative, but closer to exploratory. So much had been rushed between them that first time, softness and passion exchanged for something rougher, primal; she refuses to regret those memories, but she will not allow them to dictate her actions here, and her free hand gently rises to cup the side of his face as she starts to respond to him with more fervor, more desire.
The kiss breaks and she turns her head into the touch of his hand, nudges her cheek into his palm before turning her head to bring her lips there, to skin that smells of whiskey before trailing down to inner wrist. When she inevitably glances back to him, there will be no mistaking the heat in her own gaze, the dilated pupils, the subtle quickness of her breathing. ]
no subject
The kiss breaks and she turns her head into the touch of his hand, nudges her cheek into his palm before turning her head to bring her lips there, to skin that smells of whiskey before trailing down to inner wrist. When she inevitably glances back to him, there will be no mistaking the heat in her own gaze, the dilated pupils, the subtle quickness of her breathing. ]