[There are immediate retorts that spring to mind; 'I already knew that' and 'doesn't mean you can't change when the circumstance dictates it' and a couple more except she's lost all of them in the feeling of Yelena pressed between her thighs, those annoying pants of hers providing an interesting sort of friction against her oversensitive skin, and her hands slow as they pass over Kate.
She bites down on her lip, eyes fluttering shut before she snaps them back open again (she doesn't want to miss the sight of this, and she's never been great at leaning in to a good thing without a fight), and drags a breath in, trying to fight the moan that threatens to spill out.
Yelena is--surprisingly good at this. At making her body respond. Kate shivers at the touches, goosebumps chasing after teasing fingers, and she manages to keep her hands balled in the covers on the bed right until her mouth gets involved. Yelena's lips meet her shoulder and Kate arches into the touch, the sharp feel of teeth against the warmth of her mouth, the contrast enough to draw a sharp gasp as her hands scramble to find purchase on her hips, sliding down to the button of her pants.
They fumble with the button though, distracted as she is by the Yelena's attentions and she growls at the situation, torn between letting go and embracing the wash of sensation and her intention to even the odds]
Fuck-- [It's a whimper more than a curse, but there's enough sting in it to express her current dichotomy. Yelena's mouth moves over her bicep and she finds a strange compromise, one hand still lingering at the damned button and the other bracing her upright on the bed] Oh my god, how are you so good at this?
[Kate Bishop is not often speechless, but, well, she might actually be somewhat close]
no subject
She bites down on her lip, eyes fluttering shut before she snaps them back open again (she doesn't want to miss the sight of this, and she's never been great at leaning in to a good thing without a fight), and drags a breath in, trying to fight the moan that threatens to spill out.
Yelena is--surprisingly good at this. At making her body respond. Kate shivers at the touches, goosebumps chasing after teasing fingers, and she manages to keep her hands balled in the covers on the bed right until her mouth gets involved. Yelena's lips meet her shoulder and Kate arches into the touch, the sharp feel of teeth against the warmth of her mouth, the contrast enough to draw a sharp gasp as her hands scramble to find purchase on her hips, sliding down to the button of her pants.
They fumble with the button though, distracted as she is by the Yelena's attentions and she growls at the situation, torn between letting go and embracing the wash of sensation and her intention to even the odds]
Fuck-- [It's a whimper more than a curse, but there's enough sting in it to express her current dichotomy. Yelena's mouth moves over her bicep and she finds a strange compromise, one hand still lingering at the damned button and the other bracing her upright on the bed] Oh my god, how are you so good at this?
[Kate Bishop is not often speechless, but, well, she might actually be somewhat close]