[Had he enough conscious thought left to do anything besides continue to rock against her, he'd be thrilled by the sounds she's currently making. She's liking this, she's loving it, and the fact that she's being so vocal about it would be (were his brain functioning properly) one of the most erotic things he's ever experienced.
It isn't until he feels a familiar tightening sensation in his stomach that he realizes what's about to happen-- that he isn't the only one about to go right over the edge.
No, no, not like this, this isn't what I wanted...
Stopping the motions of his hips is probably the single hardest thing he's ever done in his life, because oh god does his body want to just finish what they'd started, they're both so close...]
Elizabeth...
[He can barely get the word out, can hardly think beyond his arousal, his entire body screaming at him to keep going.]
Not like this... I don't want...
[He has to grope for every word, try to remember just how speech works.]
I wanted to...
[What was it that he'd wanted to do?]
... my hands. My mouth. Touching you.
[Touching her without this stupid fabric in-between them. Something a little more romantic, more intimate than just desperate partially-clothed rutting against each other.]
[Action, July 19th]
It isn't until he feels a familiar tightening sensation in his stomach that he realizes what's about to happen-- that he isn't the only one about to go right over the edge.
No, no, not like this, this isn't what I wanted...
Stopping the motions of his hips is probably the single hardest thing he's ever done in his life, because oh god does his body want to just finish what they'd started, they're both so close...]
Elizabeth...
[He can barely get the word out, can hardly think beyond his arousal, his entire body screaming at him to keep going.]
Not like this... I don't want...
[He has to grope for every word, try to remember just how speech works.]
I wanted to...
[What was it that he'd wanted to do?]
... my hands. My mouth. Touching you.
[Touching her without this stupid fabric in-between them. Something a little more romantic, more intimate than just desperate partially-clothed rutting against each other.]