[ Claude's sudden closeness and the trail of his fingers along her jaw has her breath catching in her throat. In that hairsbreadth of a second, she's stock still, definitely under the impression that he'll kiss her. When a kiss doesn't come, a mixture of disappointment quickly followed by amusement washes over her along with the realization that this had been a repeat of a move from earlier.
As the rest of her dress is slowly pulled off her, she leans back against Sylvain's chest, arms lazily looping around his neck to watch Claude work. Finally free of her dress, her body is stretched long, the sheer panels of her corset fully on display along with an expanse of pale skin. Thanks to Sylvain's hands still firmly gripping her hips, her body is pleasantly warm and flushed.
Each press of his lips against her bare skin with Claude watching - for some reason it feels right. Maybe that's the champagne talking. It has to be that because the alternatives aren't things she wants to think about right now.
Eyes trained on Claude, her lips curl languidly as her fingers play with the hair at the nape of Sylvain's neck. A spark of teasing lights up her voice. ]
I can't tell for sure. He's playing coy.
[ Said like she isn't doing the same. Said like she isn't daring him to be less coy – or more. Neither are bad ideas. ]
no subject
As the rest of her dress is slowly pulled off her, she leans back against Sylvain's chest, arms lazily looping around his neck to watch Claude work. Finally free of her dress, her body is stretched long, the sheer panels of her corset fully on display along with an expanse of pale skin. Thanks to Sylvain's hands still firmly gripping her hips, her body is pleasantly warm and flushed.
Each press of his lips against her bare skin with Claude watching - for some reason it feels right. Maybe that's the champagne talking. It has to be that because the alternatives aren't things she wants to think about right now.
Eyes trained on Claude, her lips curl languidly as her fingers play with the hair at the nape of Sylvain's neck. A spark of teasing lights up her voice. ]
I can't tell for sure. He's playing coy.
[ Said like she isn't doing the same. Said like she isn't daring him to be less coy – or more. Neither are bad ideas. ]