He lets his head tip back, his groan rumbling deep in his chest. He would happily let her do that all day long, even when she edges into areas the bone-deep bruises haven't yet surfaced. Luckily his hands don't need his eyes' direction to explore the delicious softness of her breasts, his hands unconsciously matching the rhythm of her tongue.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-08-24 03:09 am (UTC)