[ Her every movement was art, every sound a provocation; when she dug her nails into his shoulders, it was as though tiny points of fire had broken the skin and found their way straight to his veins.
Majima shrugged out of his shirt once he felt her fingers at the buttons; it was forgotten by the time it hit the floor. And now that he was free of that constricting fabric, he might as well undo the rest of Justine's clasps, too, in favor of running his hands over every smooth, inviting inch of her. Thumb along her collarbone, dipping down to cup her breasts, and then his fingertips were following the line of her back -- that graceful, arching curve that bowed in toward her waist. He found her skirt zipper and pulled downward, leaving the material to pool around her hips.
One finger hooked under the waistband of her panties for a second, before Majima seemed to think better of it. Instead, he slipped the fingers of one hand under the hem of her skirt and started to circle and rub her clit through the thin fabric of the undergarment, complementing the languid, rocking motion of her hips.
Then he leaned forward to murmur in her ear. ]
Justine.
[ It was teasing, it was an endearment, it was a confession of everything he wanted to do to her in that moment. Drive her wild? Absolutely, because that was exactly what she was doing to him. Only question, really, was which one of them would abandon all pretense first.
His free arm was around her waist, strong and effortlessly bracing, but his kisses fell wherever they could reach in the moment: her hair, the corner of her jaw, sucking gently at the exposed skin of her throat. ]
no subject
Majima shrugged out of his shirt once he felt her fingers at the buttons; it was forgotten by the time it hit the floor. And now that he was free of that constricting fabric, he might as well undo the rest of Justine's clasps, too, in favor of running his hands over every smooth, inviting inch of her. Thumb along her collarbone, dipping down to cup her breasts, and then his fingertips were following the line of her back -- that graceful, arching curve that bowed in toward her waist. He found her skirt zipper and pulled downward, leaving the material to pool around her hips.
One finger hooked under the waistband of her panties for a second, before Majima seemed to think better of it. Instead, he slipped the fingers of one hand under the hem of her skirt and started to circle and rub her clit through the thin fabric of the undergarment, complementing the languid, rocking motion of her hips.
Then he leaned forward to murmur in her ear. ]
Justine.
[ It was teasing, it was an endearment, it was a confession of everything he wanted to do to her in that moment. Drive her wild? Absolutely, because that was exactly what she was doing to him. Only question, really, was which one of them would abandon all pretense first.
His free arm was around her waist, strong and effortlessly bracing, but his kisses fell wherever they could reach in the moment: her hair, the corner of her jaw, sucking gently at the exposed skin of her throat. ]