[He arches into the flimsy touch of her fingers on his clothes for half a second before he steadies himself, muddled brain kicking into gear when he realizes that it'll be easier for her if he stays still. His breathing grows deeper, a little ragged, but he keeps it slow, steady, save for the sharp inhale of release when she frees him out of the uncomfortable tightness of his pants, flushed, hard and leaking. Dante grits his teeth at her grasp, small hand but soft and easy to warm against his skin to struggle against the sensation of her fingers finally where it matters to him most.
And she speaks and he flutters his eyelids closed, a thirsty man panting for the sound of her voice, the words she's saying. He's the same, he wants to say. He may have not occupied his head with good thoughts about it, not on how revolted he had been at the repetition of the scene of what happened between them in his mind, but on how it could be a mere play of this place's machinations. But the rest, how easily she fit against him, the curl of humor in the tone of her words, how unafraid she was of requesting him more than he had thought to ever give. It all got under his skin too easily.
That she's the same, however, strikes something that goes beyond the foreign impulse of acting on his own lust. It's a relief and a reminder that he's not alone - not this time - in this. He reaches for the back of her head, pushes himself forward towards her to brush his nose across her cheek.] You know what they say about great minds.
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And she speaks and he flutters his eyelids closed, a thirsty man panting for the sound of her voice, the words she's saying. He's the same, he wants to say. He may have not occupied his head with good thoughts about it, not on how revolted he had been at the repetition of the scene of what happened between them in his mind, but on how it could be a mere play of this place's machinations. But the rest, how easily she fit against him, the curl of humor in the tone of her words, how unafraid she was of requesting him more than he had thought to ever give. It all got under his skin too easily.
That she's the same, however, strikes something that goes beyond the foreign impulse of acting on his own lust. It's a relief and a reminder that he's not alone - not this time - in this. He reaches for the back of her head, pushes himself forward towards her to brush his nose across her cheek.] You know what they say about great minds.
Let me in once more.