Curse (bless) him - bless his hands, his lips, his warmth, his voice. They would mercilessly make her shudder and sigh and whimper as she leaned against him. Shamelessly, obscenely, she clutched him tightly with her free arm, and she would wrap her thighs around him. (Skin against skin, warmth against warmth.) How thin it was, the line between being in control and being tamed: and how hard it was, fighting against him for dominance, when just his voice (thrilling, promising) could make her whimper impatiently as she would keep rolling her hips against him matching his rhythm. (This time, she knew she was going to lose.)
That familiar and pleasant heat that was growing and spreading - how could he reduce her like that, even after years? Her own imploring voice would fill the silence of the room, that moan would finally escape her lips (betraying her), and how so sweetly she would invoke his name (as she had done many and many times) - an honor that no other man ever had, although Lacie had had other partners. Still, only he could hear that furious, needy, greedy voice yet so alluring and sweet as she (willingly) succumbed to him.
Just this time. This time only.
« No… fair. » Almost a needy sob as she bit her lower lip - she stiffened a little as she felt his teeth grazing her skin (and she would shiver, and her voice would slightly break and tremble as she heard him). It was not a matter of pride anymore - it was desire and lust and want. Why care about everything else? Let him hear her voice, let them hear her voice. (Let him touch, and kiss, do anything he wanted to.) « Can I say the same? » And she bit her lip again, suppressing another rebellious whimper. She would hide her face in the crook of his neck, yet her hand would reach for his fingers kneading into her breast, and covered his hand - she tried again to gain that control that was slipping through her fingers (rougher and harder she pushed against him, impatiently). A satisfied gasp left her lips as she bit down his neck in response - her body would stiffen and arch against him, leaning in wanton abandonment. (Yes, he was right. He was the only one who could hear her like this, see her like this, touch her like this.)
« Am I… » And she closed her eyes as she teasingly kissed his neck right where her teeth had grazed his skin. Her free hand would sneak again dangerously low, restlessly tracing its path on his skin - slowly and as teasingly as her ever so light kiss (every inch of his skin, she knew it all oh so well, even with her eyes closed). Still slowly and softly, but not weakly (quite firmly). she would caress his excitement - in her touch the very same hint of possessiveness he had. « … the only one who can have you and satisfy you, Levi? » And how shamefully she whispered his name again (her voice mingling with her erratic breathing) and smirked.
(How sweetly forbidden if felt, his name on her tongue.)
This was, perhaps, his greatest pleasure and sin wrapped into one lustful basket that he would share with her. Only she could make him feel this way. ( Make him enjoy such interaction and make him take his time to relish in the intoxicating feeling. ) Even with his time being slowly chipped away the same as his body, she would still caress him with such touches that left him always craving more. It connected with a bestial side of him that he did not often let free-- but she could handle him when he did.
The sound of her pleasure finally breaking free from her lips earned an eager jerk of his hips as his hands ravished and caressed her body. Hand still kneads at her breast, pausing only to rub her stiffened nipples between his fingers. Her hand resting on his did not hinder his actions, but somehow only made it more erotic and satisfying. Other hand is quick to relocate again, this time trailing of the height of her hips and down her thighs that wrapped around his waist. He trails his fingers back up her thigh and to her heat where he slipped a finger through her folds and stroked the sensitive nerves of her clitoris.
He takes his kneading hand and turn his palm so his fingers interlock with her dainty ones. He can feel her trying not to tremble with pleasure, and he squeezes her hand knowingly-- even with a wicked grin on his lips and lust in his eyes. “I am a fickle man,” he says as he addresses her question after several moments. Lips go to graze against her cheek as he continues his actions-- pace fluctuating its speed almost as a mirror to her strokes. Eyes close as he presses his head to her cheek and a groan finally escapes his lips and mingles with the lewd noises in the room. “But you are by far my favorite.” He was indeed fickle at times, but Lacie was definitely the only woman capable of making him feel this way without so much as trying.
Another groan is forced to the back of his throat as her grip becomes firmer. He can practically hear his rapidly beating heart and the blood pumping in his ears and Levi knows his patience is almost up. He slides another finger into her entrance and implores them further into her heat. ( He can feel that she’s wet even through the water surrounding them in the basin. “Lacie..” Her name rolls off his tongue like honey and his teeth bite into her shoulder as fingers unwind from her’s to clasp over the movement of her hand on his excitement. “Don’t test my patience, love.” His voice is suddenly rough and demanding, dripping with all of his lust and pent up emotions that stemmed from her. In this moment, he did not care that he carried the name of Glen-- that his very actions could be considered betrayal and treason of the clan. He wanted her. Wanted all of her.
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