"Hm." She hums back, chin tilting so that her hair falls over her ear. She felt that stir of passion, only for it to be tempered. Nevertheless.
"Doesn't feel very kind when she's beating on my bladder." Hardly much of a complaint. If she really wanted to get into it, the state of her would be enough -- but being here has returned some of the color to her face, diminished the shadows under her eyes, and soothed the sharpness that has hollowed her softness to angles.
All in jest. She's very evidently basking in his attention, the sweep of his hand. Her eyes flutter shut, briefly, but her hand circles his wrist, pressing her thumb against his steady pulse. She's quiet for a few beats.
"I'm sure she can't help it." Nate reasons, though there's a tone in there that suggests Hope should consider not doing that anymore. Some things he can't control.
Wanting to be closer, he tucks his head against her stomach and shuts his eyes as well. He feels truly robbed now, knowing how good this feels. Nothing feels worth giving it up again.
"I'm here now." He assures her, it's all he can offer her.
"I'm going to fix it." He has absolutely no idea how, but he feels resolute about it now. If he loses his girls, he'll never recover. For now other than assurance, he's offering what he can in the way of washing his power over her body. Letting her absorb some of his energy, soothing her nerve ends and her nausea.
He's all but climbing the chair to get closer to her, but it's not practical nor comfortable for her. When he plants his hands either side of her head, the world goes topsy turvy for a second as she shifts from sitting upright to her back.
She lands gently, but with enough oomph to make the fluffy quilt of the bed underneath her puff out air. The movement also flicks rose petals up into the air around her.
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"Doesn't feel very kind when she's beating on my bladder." Hardly much of a complaint. If she really wanted to get into it, the state of her would be enough -- but being here has returned some of the color to her face, diminished the shadows under her eyes, and soothed the sharpness that has hollowed her softness to angles.
All in jest. She's very evidently basking in his attention, the sweep of his hand. Her eyes flutter shut, briefly, but her hand circles his wrist, pressing her thumb against his steady pulse. She's quiet for a few beats.
"I missed you. And I don't want to go back."
no subject
Wanting to be closer, he tucks his head against her stomach and shuts his eyes as well. He feels truly robbed now, knowing how good this feels. Nothing feels worth giving it up again.
"I'm here now." He assures her, it's all he can offer her.
"I'm going to fix it." He has absolutely no idea how, but he feels resolute about it now. If he loses his girls, he'll never recover. For now other than assurance, he's offering what he can in the way of washing his power over her body. Letting her absorb some of his energy, soothing her nerve ends and her nausea.
He's all but climbing the chair to get closer to her, but it's not practical nor comfortable for her. When he plants his hands either side of her head, the world goes topsy turvy for a second as she shifts from sitting upright to her back.
She lands gently, but with enough oomph to make the fluffy quilt of the bed underneath her puff out air. The movement also flicks rose petals up into the air around her.