[Finding himself releasing a breath he had been holding when Vanessa pulls back, trailing her lips on the exposed skin of his chest, Dante also wonders at how he can't really feel any temperature shift there. He had been leaning in, into her, on his seat on the couch, eager and intent and just a little wayward, driven by the warmth of her, the thickness of the air that seemed to lather her like a second skin.
He leans back, then, on his seat on the couch. Wraps a strong arm around her waist to tell her that she's good there while giving her a better position to explore. Because for all the drunken, wanton state he's in, he reckons that Vanessa probably needs this as much as he does - even if it's just a distant shout of "screw you" into the system, a reprisal of what they had been made to do, as if a taunt about their chemistry in their previous encounter.
And man, if the sight enough of her tilting her head, dark eyelashes fanned over her cheeks while her breath ghosted over his skin, isn't enough to make him groan and tilt his head back with lips parted, then it's the zing her mouth leaves there.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling them sharp, and he closes his eyes so that a possible glare of red dies down. He has half a mind to wonder if a short flare of his trigger would subdue this induced state so he could also claim doing this is out of his own volition alone. But for all the otherworldly things she's seen, he doesn't want to scare her now. Not when things are getting this interesting.
Still, that half a mind has a mind of its own, willing to break free every now and then. He snarls subtly, fingertips slipping under the hem of the undergarments she's wearing as he guides her hips into the rolls of his own languidly once again. But when he leans his head into her ear with a light nip to the shell, he manages to hide a spectral tone behind his chuckle, and that's a blessing.]
no subject
He leans back, then, on his seat on the couch. Wraps a strong arm around her waist to tell her that she's good there while giving her a better position to explore. Because for all the drunken, wanton state he's in, he reckons that Vanessa probably needs this as much as he does - even if it's just a distant shout of "screw you" into the system, a reprisal of what they had been made to do, as if a taunt about their chemistry in their previous encounter.
And man, if the sight enough of her tilting her head, dark eyelashes fanned over her cheeks while her breath ghosted over his skin, isn't enough to make him groan and tilt his head back with lips parted, then it's the zing her mouth leaves there.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling them sharp, and he closes his eyes so that a possible glare of red dies down. He has half a mind to wonder if a short flare of his trigger would subdue this induced state so he could also claim doing this is out of his own volition alone. But for all the otherworldly things she's seen, he doesn't want to scare her now. Not when things are getting this interesting.
Still, that half a mind has a mind of its own, willing to break free every now and then. He snarls subtly, fingertips slipping under the hem of the undergarments she's wearing as he guides her hips into the rolls of his own languidly once again. But when he leans his head into her ear with a light nip to the shell, he manages to hide a spectral tone behind his chuckle, and that's a blessing.]
Off. Before I tear these.