The softer kiss elicited the tiniest of whimpers from Melinoe, and is the reason for a third button to be pressed back through the hole it occupied. It is his push against her own form, however, that rousts the more primal beast that had reared its head when Phonos first captured her lips while trapped in the metal box. A soft growl that was so unlike her found its way into the kiss as he made his physical desire known to her once again; her fingers that navigated his skin curved slightly so that the nails lightly scraped across his flesh, enough to leave behind faint lines in their wake. It seemed a dangerous dance, but it appeared that neither of them were entirely willing to stop.
Each brush of his fingertips and the heat behind them was quickly starting to become an obsession; the way he had been aggressive with her one moment then extraordinarily tender in the next breath was something of a paradox, and not unlike how Murder could be in various circumstances. Every single movement, every catch of a gaze fueled the addiction. Was any of it right? Would there be regrets later? With Phonos, it was difficult to tell. He was not wired to handle human emotions, regret being one of the biggest. What would Murder actually be if regret clouded his activity? Melinoe silently cursed the thoughts that drifted into her mind and were now at odds with everything she had been allowing to take over her person.
Oh, but then he touches her face and brushes her hair away as he grinds against her. And he just had to be affectionate and bellicose all at once, didn’t he. The immersion of it all set each of her nerves on fire, and the heat rising in the elevator between the two of them was only spurred on by the lack of moving air; the light sheen of perspiration beginning on her skin only served to drive her desire forward. His shirt was fully opened before either of them realized it, and Melione ignored the fact that the hand resting on his chest was sliding down of its own accord to rest at the waistband of his trousers.
no subject
Each brush of his fingertips and the heat behind them was quickly starting to become an obsession; the way he had been aggressive with her one moment then extraordinarily tender in the next breath was something of a paradox, and not unlike how Murder could be in various circumstances. Every single movement, every catch of a gaze fueled the addiction. Was any of it right? Would there be regrets later? With Phonos, it was difficult to tell. He was not wired to handle human emotions, regret being one of the biggest. What would Murder actually be if regret clouded his activity? Melinoe silently cursed the thoughts that drifted into her mind and were now at odds with everything she had been allowing to take over her person.
Oh, but then he touches her face and brushes her hair away as he grinds against her. And he just had to be affectionate and bellicose all at once, didn’t he. The immersion of it all set each of her nerves on fire, and the heat rising in the elevator between the two of them was only spurred on by the lack of moving air; the light sheen of perspiration beginning on her skin only served to drive her desire forward. His shirt was fully opened before either of them realized it, and Melione ignored the fact that the hand resting on his chest was sliding down of its own accord to rest at the waistband of his trousers.