[Is this what it feels like to crave something so close that her heart races just from the sheer thought alone? To feel a little tipsy without drinking a sip of liquor? A very silly notion, if she's honest with herself, but the part of her who yearns for affection is very satiated. That, she can't deny. Her nagging conscience that sometimes barges in and gives her headaches — the kind that screeches such phrases as 'You don't deserve Rafayel, you greedy woman!' — remains silent (much to her relief).
No need to put on false pretenses like she's on a mission, gathering highly coveted intel by pretending to be something she's not. Her trembling lips don't lie and neither do her hands, thumbs gently tracing the apples of his cheeks. Her heart, thumping against her chest relentlessly, is all the truth she needs.
Ambrosia doesn't answer him right away — not verbally, at least. She's being greedy and she knows it, returning his chaste kiss with one of her own, just to savor his hand on her neck and his lips on hers. Once she slowly opens her eyes to meet his gaze, her breath hitches and she responds, almost in a whisper:]
[ there's a split second where he deliberates on if there wasn't a better place to do this. perhaps, he could have expertly led her out from the balcony and towards the white sand of beach that acts as a perimeter to his home. or maybe, he could have held it in a second longer, let the tension linger for just a few more seconds.
but, the moment in which their lips touch and their breaths intermingle — he swiftly realized it didn't actually matter. it just felt right. even now as he feels her kiss in return, he feels his fingertips grow hot. at her words, there's a quiet, subdued chuckle on the edge of his lips. ] Then... [ his voice is breathy and barely above a whisper. almost as if he were sharing a secret just between the two of them. ] Don't forget you started this.
[ rafayel doesn't wait before he presses his lips back on hers. he gently guides her head slightly, his tongue brushing against her lower lip as he deepens the kiss. the self-control he once exhibited feels a lot like an illusion now, even to him. then again, he doesn't exactly have room for those thoughts. not anymore, at least. ]
[It's definitely not enough. Not a single shred of self-restraint to be found, so how can she possibly resist when it all feels so right? If Rafayel isn't complaining, then neither will she — certainly not when their lips are too preoccupied with each other's to put into words how they feel.
The breathiness of his voice tickles her ears and coaxes a drawn-out sigh out of her, a feeling of lightness enveloping her, soothing her. She could try and insist that, no, he started it with the innuendo, but that's just not possible now. His lips are just too soft and warm against hers, and oh, his tongue is working wonders as her bottom lip trembles. Her greediness is amplified from the way she parts her lips to deepen the kiss further, and maybe — just maybe — capture his tongue in between them for a light suckle.
(There is no 'maybe'. When it comes to passion, Ambrosia never does it half-baked.)
Gentle electric sparks travel down Ambrosia's spine and settle into the back of her neck, encouraging her to press herself close, arms loosely wrapped around his neck to ground herself and keep her knees from turning into jelly, at least a little bit.]
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No need to put on false pretenses like she's on a mission, gathering highly coveted intel by pretending to be something she's not. Her trembling lips don't lie and neither do her hands, thumbs gently tracing the apples of his cheeks. Her heart, thumping against her chest relentlessly, is all the truth she needs.
Ambrosia doesn't answer him right away — not verbally, at least. She's being greedy and she knows it, returning his chaste kiss with one of her own, just to savor his hand on her neck and his lips on hers. Once she slowly opens her eyes to meet his gaze, her breath hitches and she responds, almost in a whisper:]
It's not enough.
no subject
but, the moment in which their lips touch and their breaths intermingle — he swiftly realized it didn't actually matter. it just felt right. even now as he feels her kiss in return, he feels his fingertips grow hot. at her words, there's a quiet, subdued chuckle on the edge of his lips. ] Then... [ his voice is breathy and barely above a whisper. almost as if he were sharing a secret just between the two of them. ] Don't forget you started this.
[ rafayel doesn't wait before he presses his lips back on hers. he gently guides her head slightly, his tongue brushing against her lower lip as he deepens the kiss. the self-control he once exhibited feels a lot like an illusion now, even to him. then again, he doesn't exactly have room for those thoughts. not anymore, at least. ]
no subject
The breathiness of his voice tickles her ears and coaxes a drawn-out sigh out of her, a feeling of lightness enveloping her, soothing her. She could try and insist that, no, he started it with the innuendo, but that's just not possible now. His lips are just too soft and warm against hers, and oh, his tongue is working wonders as her bottom lip trembles. Her greediness is amplified from the way she parts her lips to deepen the kiss further, and maybe — just maybe — capture his tongue in between them for a light suckle.
(There is no 'maybe'. When it comes to passion, Ambrosia never does it half-baked.)
Gentle electric sparks travel down Ambrosia's spine and settle into the back of her neck, encouraging her to press herself close, arms loosely wrapped around his neck to ground herself and keep her knees from turning into jelly, at least a little bit.]