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Summary
Her hands go to the leather belt wrapped around him, undoing buckles with sharp, efficient motions. He can’t think, too caught up in the feeling of her against him, of the knowledge of what she could do - what he’s seen her do, albeit in different contexts. She’d pinched her abdomen shut in front of him once, stopped her wet, pink insides from spilling over his pub floor.
“No,” he says, eventually. “I don’t- No tricks.” The belt comes off, and he kisses her, grinds into the softness of her thigh, smearing against her skin. “Just this- me, you, no magic.” He can’t imagine needing anything else, not knowing the whole truth of her, the way that she smells, the way that she smiles, the way that her skin tastes under his tongue.
She laughs into his neck. “How sweet,” she says, and if it weren’t for the way she’s staring at him, gaze sticky with affection, he’d take it as condescension. “You like me more than the rest of them,” she then adds, incomprehensible. “No one else takes me as I am.”
Series
- Part 2 of unforgivable (still forgiven)