[ kissing finn is like breathing. it's easy, effortless; the want swells and rises with each pass of lips and tongue against each other, a warm bath of desire that rey sinks into without thought or hesitation, and when his hand cradles her face, there's a sudden but unsurprising awareness that she'd be content to simply stay like this for as long as her breath would allow. she'd be happy to linger in this warmth for hours if she could, just mapping out the parts of him she's never had permission to seek out before, memorizing the sensation of his hands against her cheek, the gentle drag of calloused fingertips against her skin.
then he breaks off, pulls away just enough to drop his mouth against her shoulder and then her chest, and rey finds this isn't wrong either. it's different, but no less good — no less deserving of the breathy exhale it earns or the gentle coo of his name that comes when his tongue drags up over a particularly sensitive spot. his devotionals earn all of that and more, the sigh that spills out from his mouth over her skin drawing a shiver that's easily mopped up in the warmth of his hands spanning across.
but while she might be inexperienced, and while this may be as new to her as the line down her throat, there are some things that don't require training or teaching. some things are simply instinct — like the way rey arches into his touch, the firm line of his arousal pressing up against her as her hips roll for friction she's not sure what to do with yet. all she knows is that it feels good, in a greedy sort of way, to combine the gentle, insistent patterns of his mouth and his hands with the giddy high that comes from each exploratory shift of her weight and roll of her hips, each pulsing wave of arousal a new experience. ]
Finn, [ gasped, as her head tips back, as her hands curl over his shoulders for support in keeping herself balanced, ] Show me. Please.
no subject
then he breaks off, pulls away just enough to drop his mouth against her shoulder and then her chest, and rey finds this isn't wrong either. it's different, but no less good — no less deserving of the breathy exhale it earns or the gentle coo of his name that comes when his tongue drags up over a particularly sensitive spot. his devotionals earn all of that and more, the sigh that spills out from his mouth over her skin drawing a shiver that's easily mopped up in the warmth of his hands spanning across.
but while she might be inexperienced, and while this may be as new to her as the line down her throat, there are some things that don't require training or teaching. some things are simply instinct — like the way rey arches into his touch, the firm line of his arousal pressing up against her as her hips roll for friction she's not sure what to do with yet. all she knows is that it feels good, in a greedy sort of way, to combine the gentle, insistent patterns of his mouth and his hands with the giddy high that comes from each exploratory shift of her weight and roll of her hips, each pulsing wave of arousal a new experience. ]
Finn, [ gasped, as her head tips back, as her hands curl over his shoulders for support in keeping herself balanced, ] Show me. Please.
[ not just this, but all of it. ]