Jill Warrick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wardenofice) wrote2023-08-05 11:39 pm
wardenofice) wrote2023-08-05 11:39 pm
Jill/Clive - h/c meme 18+
[Oh. Oh, she definitely noticed. When he speaks, asking her to stay, she almost couldn't form an answer. He was quite distracting - or at least another part of him besides his voice. His hands explore her hair and it does things to her too. He makes her feel beautiful and maybe even desirable, if their current predicament was any indication.
Gods, she could have just left it alone. She should have, but then he's asking that she stay and it makes her want to kiss him harder and her hips rock to meet his. Yes, Clive. She noticed. Sleep be damned, really. At least for the moment. Sleep could come to claim them after whatever this was between them was satisfied.]
Were you hoping I wouldn't notice, Lord Rosfield?
[She's teasing him with the way she calls him 'Lord', but not in a way that showed she was upset with him. It was an easy way, as it had always been with them when they were children. The were not children any longer, that much was clear. They were here in his bed, him half aroused and her with his shirt trying it's best not to fall off of her. It was putting up a valiant effort and he's lucky his night clothes aren't quite so tight or he might be more uncomfortable than he is right now.]
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Luckily for the both of them, this night is heading in a very pleasurable direction.
Clive looks down at her in the moonlight and opens his mouth to say...something. You're sure? Though of course she is. She just said it. Ready? The same concept.
I love you.
...Ah. It's true, he finds in his mind, but the moment right before they properly couple is hardly right for such a serious sentiment, isn't it? It could easily be construed as his emotions flying away without him. No, Clive must save that for when it counts and can be trusted for all its worth.
Instead, he takes a breath and, taking his length in hand to make doubly sure he gets this right, he finally speaks.]
As My Lady wishes.
[He pushes in and immediately sighs against Jill's mouth, not quite kissing her as he slowly acclimates to this wonderful feeling again. So hot and tight and perfect and he could stay here forever if she let him. Just never leave his bed again, forget the troubles of the world, let someone else take care of things for once.
He barely jostles his hips, but the friction between them is so incredible he can't keep his mouth shut.]
Fuck.
[And then he immediately bites his lip and shakes his head. He knows better than to speak so crassly in front of women, especially nobility. He may have a rough exterior and he may have spent far too many years in the Imperial Army, but he is nobility, too.]
...Sorry.
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My Lady.
It made her stomach flip when he called her that. Her hands reach out for him, thumbs caressing his cheeks, her own mouth parted in a mirror to his. Her thumb pays particular attention to the scar where his brand had been. Then, he moves. It's not an exaggerated movement but she feels the friction of his length as he rocks his hips.]
Ah- no- no need to apologize.
[She moves her legs up higher near his hips, giving him a new angle. She would move her own hips in kind but she finds herself joined to him while pressed into the sheets, so she settles for dragging her fingers through his hair.]
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...Well. Except herself, it seems.
The combination of her locking her legs near his hips and her fingers in his hair drags a long breath from his lips. He barely moves his hips again, but the new angle sends fresh sparks throughout his body, giving him a taste of the pleasure he can have if he just continues.
So, that's what he does.
He braces himself on either side of Jill and slowly pulls out, but then thrusts back in, her heat enveloping him anew. It's unlike anything he's ever experienced, except for that night on the beach. Even Ifrit's flames don't compare to the overwhelming sensation he feels. He picks up the pace just a little, panting against her neck as he finds a steady rhythm. It's so easy to melt into Jill and give into this that he nearly forgets to be quiet. His pants turn into groans, but he and Jill are the only people that matter right now.]
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She locks her ankles loosely together against his back, her body sliding against the sheets as he drives into her and his hips and her legs hold her in place. His cock slides in and out easily, her walls fluttering as the friction makes her bite her bottom lip when he bottoms out.
They don’t really need words and she avoids confessing something like I love you in the heat of the moment, opting to simply trail kisses on his skin and paying particular attention to his collar bone and neck instead. Her hand moves up, wrapping around his wrist and then lacing their fingers together, palm against palm. She did love him, of course. Maybe since they were children.
It had been hard to regain that level of trust or even love, after what she had seen and experienced. They both had lost so much of themselves, piece by piece, and slowly since the years he had taken Cid’s name that anxiety fell away. He made her safe.
The fact that he had asked permission and she granted it enthusiastically every step of the way that brought them to this moment meant more than words could describe. She showed him that love, even if not in words, with small things like her fingers stroking the back of his neck, her other hand squeezing his gently while he draws pleasure from them both. Yes, she loved him.]
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Fuck, how is that even possible?
Not that Clive is complaining. Quite the opposite, really, and it only urges him to pick up the pace and chase that feeling. If he felt that good, he hopes she did, too. Even though he hurtles toward pleasure, he's still in control of himself enough to be aware of Jill. Her touches. Her kisses. He opens his hand to her and their fingers fit together perfectly. One more point of constant contact. It's wonderful. It's incredible.
His skin takes on a sheen of sweat the more he moves. It does little to cool him, not when Jill is right here and he can feel himself slipping deeper into bliss. Maybe he's greedy. Maybe he's just weak. But Clive pushes himself up as far as he can with Jill's grip on him and slips his free hand between them. His thumb finds where they're joined and hastily gives her clit a few flicks before moving upward, dragging the hem of his borrowed shirt up, up, up to bare a breast.]
Oh, Jill.
[He bends down and wraps his lips around her nipple, suckling the tender flesh.]
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Clive- Clive...
[She feels close, the feeling buried like a knot in her stomach. Her voice shook slightly as she whispered his name. No, she wanted this to last longer. She wanted to stay in his bed and never leave, to shut out the rest of the world. Let the rest of the outside world wait. For this night, he was hers alone, as it had been on the beach.
He glowed in the moonlight then as he did now. He was beautiful and he made her want to hold onto him longer, kiss him harder. Instead she focuses on the feeling of his mouth on her skin, sucking on her nipple. The attention made the peak stiffen, her voice more breathless as she sucked in air. Her heart hammered in her chest as it rose and fell quickly. Her hand squeezed his a little harder. He would definitely notice how he was affecting her.]
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...Has the bed always been creaking?
Clive continues to suck on her nipple, his tongue happily swirling around the peak. A part of him wants to bite down on the tender flesh. That must be Ifrit, such a primal, destructive creature. Clive reins him in. No. Jill is his to enjoy and take apart in his own way, not the beast inside. There will be a time for Ifrit to sink his claws and teeth into an opponent soon enough, just not here.
And yet, a growl escapes his lips as he pushes the shirt up to free Jill's other breast, a remnant of his quick inner fight. Clive latches onto her other nipple while his hand squeezes the abandoned breast. All the while his hips keep up their rhythm, snapping flush against her own until it leaves him nearly breathless.
Releasing her nipple, Clive breathes hotly against her ear.]
I won't last, Jill.
[His hand finally squeezes hers more in turn.]
Tell me how you want me. I'll give you anything.
[A dangerous question, just like she had teased earlier, but one he is still willing to ask.
Always. Always, for her.]
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I can tell... you're holding back. Don't hold back. I want you.
[Her fingers drift through the hair at the back of his neck as she turns her head to trail hot kisses along his throat, beneath his jaw where her lips meet the rough texture of stubble. She wanted all of him: the sweet shyness, the focused touches and lingering kisses, and the part of him that lurked beneath.
She tugs a bit on his hair as her mouth lingered on his throat and she left a reddened kiss mark there. It felt bold of her, knowing it would still be there in the morning.]
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When her lips find his neck, he arches his neck to give her better access, even if the softness of her mouth sends fresh ripples of desire throughout his body. It amazes him how much he wants her, as if every second only unveils more reasons as to why she's perfect.
And then she sucks at his neck. That alone is enough to drag a moan out of him, but she pulls on his hair, too, and something in him snaps.
He tears his hand away from her to brace himself once more as he presses into her as much as he can, his fingers clutching at the sheets desperately as he spills into her. In this moment, this lifetime, he forgets how to breathe, and just lets his eyes close as he feels or lives or dies a little, he doesn't know, doesn't care, just as long as he's still with Jill. Their hands remain clasped and it seems that that might be the only thing keeping Clive on this earth.
Finally, after some indeterminate amount of time, he gasps in a breath and feels his body sag with sudden exhaustion.]
Founder.
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Distantly, somewhere in the midst of the white hazy feeling of her orgasm, she can feel him tense up as he spills inside of her, filling her belly with heat. Her limbs have become jelly as she tries to catch her breath and unwrap her legs from around him, her insides throbbing in the best way. She caresses his cheek, brushing her lips against his as he sags against her. The weight is a comfort because it means he is here and she is here and any nightmares before cannot touch them.
They're both a mess of sweat and sex and half removed clothing, but she is content just to lay here with him, her fingers combing through his hair as they both come down from their respective orgasms.]
Mm. That was... I think I needed that. We both did.
[It wasn't the inexperienced fumbling of two lovers new to the feeling of desire as it had been on the beach. That had been sweetness and tenderness and this had been pure need, raw and rough. She'd needed that. His touch reminded her she was alive and that she was free. They both were.]
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These sorts of liaisons normally happen under the cover of darkness, but Clive likes to think that having the moon as their witness both times they've done this is an evolution of their treasured moongazing. How far they've come since they were children who hardly knew better about the world. Clive doesn't regret where they've ended up for a second.
But he grows more tired as they lie there and he doesn't want his weight to become too much for Jill to bear. He untangles his fingers from their joined hands and strokes her cheek before moving entirely, slipping out from where they were still connected with a grunt, and lies on his side next to her.]
We did.
[For a moment, Clive can only look at her in the dim light. How disheveled she is in his bed with her hair a mess and sticking around her face from the sweat, as well as his shirt all askew. Once again he reaches up and brushes some of that hair back from her face. She's perfect, even like this, though the last time he said it, she brushed it off. He won't argue with her a second time.]
You're beautiful.
[She may disagree with that, too, but he has to let her know.]
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I could say the same of you.
[She traces the old scar across his cheek as she speaks, her hand moving down his chin over the stubble she finds there. He was always beautiful, she thought. He was her own version of perfect.]
Thank you for letting me stay. I didn't want to be alone.
[She was grateful for that, but also cherishing the moment they just shared. Her hands trace the hard planes of muscle along his chest before drifting back upwards, her thumb brushing the kiss mark she's made. She can't help but smirk a bit.]
Sorry about this. Hopefully no one asks any questions.
[She's really trying so hard not to giggle about it. Clive Rosfield, walking and with a hickey. She was very pleased with herself, clearly. She stops moving her hands around after a moment, just admiring his face.]
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Then his forced service in the army and the brand on his face that immediately made him lesser in the eyes of most. Even though it's gone now, thanks to Tarja, the scar is a reminder of those long years of suffering and only the recent freedom he has been afforded once again. He exhales and allows Jill to touch him as she wishes, though, unwilling to argue the point.
The fact she wants to touch him at all still amazes him.
After a moment, he places his hand over her own, then turns his head to press a kiss to her palm.]
I will never deny you refuge here.
[Clive releases her hand so she can continue her lazy exploration of his body, grateful for the darkness so she can't see that his face and neck must be flushed. When her touch finds his neck and he's reminded of what drove him over the edge, his body barely stirs, as if wanting to relive the moment. Silently he tells it no. The last thing either of them needs to do is try for another round. They should try and get some rest tonight. They've already lost plenty of time.
But he has a mark on his neck and he knows it won't go away quickly. Yes, hopefully no one asks any questions or brings attention to it at all, but while Clive may be the leader of their little community, he is still beholden to his elders' opinions. He can already hear Charon or Otto or even Gav making some snarky remark. He doesn't regret lying with Jill, but he wishes his privacy could remain just that. Being the center of attention has always made Clive uncomfortable.
And yet, Jill hardly sounds sorry. Clive leans in and bumps their noses before capturing her lips in a quick kiss.]
Mm. Why don't I believe you?
[While honest, his words are also affectionate. He could never be angry with Jill. But he recognizes he is the reason they're in their current state. Sweaty, smelling unmistakably of sex, halfway undressed. Staying in this bed next to Jill is heaven, despite all that, but she must be uncomfortable, even if she won't say anything.]
I know it's late, but let me draw a bath for you.
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Gods, she wanted him to touch her, but a quick assessment of her body told her no. She, like him, was tired, sweaty, and her body felt the smallest bit abused.
Though she definitely wasn’t complaining about her nipples feeling a bit raw, or the discomfort between her thighs. It made her face flush.
She could still feel it as if having his cock driven roughly inside of her had left a mark. The feeling of him, hard and hot, and the friction of him moving in and out was still felt, the evidence of their actions leaking from her raw flesh between her thighs.
That too made her heart speed up and when he kisses her she kisses him back. She wished it had been longer, but he was right. A bath sounded nice. She couldn’t help the small giggle that escapes when he says he doesn’t believe that she is sorry.]
Mm. A bath… we could probably both use one.
[Her thumb draws over that kiss mark one last time before she turns away from him to push herself into sitting up in bed.
Oh. She was feeling it now. It didn’t hurt too badly and she would never show him that it was even remotely uncomfortable, but walking would definitely feel a bit awkward for a while.
Maybe Tarja would have something to help. She would need to see her in the morning regardless, just to be sure of certain things being prevented, no matter how nice the picture of a child might be. They still danced around saying I love you.
Trying not to think about it, she pulls his borrowed shirt the rest of the way over her head to set it on the rumpled sheets.]
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In his bed.
(Previously) in his clothes.
Clive feels like a teenaged idiot, though he hardly had the time or interest in sex or women during those years. His life hasn't been typical, though, so he figures he gets a pass for this. Still, he can't leave her waiting.
Pushing himself up, he leans over to nuzzle into her neck, breathing in her unique scent under the sweaty exertion, and presses his lips against her skin.]
Don't go anywhere.
[He slips off his side of the bed and tugs his pants back up, gingerly tucking himself away. His own body aches in unfamiliar ways and he takes a moment to stand straight and roll his shoulders before searching for wherever the hell his own shirt ended up. Which turns out to be the floor, and not too far away, thankfully. He tugs that on and runs his hands through his hair, to give it a believable mussed look, just in case someone else is up at this ungodly hour.]
I won't be long.
[And then he's out the door, closing it quietly behind himself.
It doesn't take him unreasonably long, though he slowly brings back two large buckets of water, careful to not slosh them as he ascends the various steps from where their water is filtered and then up to his quarters. By the time he stops in front of his door, his arms are even more sore and he has to shake them out after he sets the buckets down. He gives a quiet knock and announces himself before slipping back inside, water in hand once again, and goes to the corner of the room where he's allowed himself the luxury of a tub. As quietly as he can he empties the water into it and then holds a hand over the water, bringing a flame to his hand to heat it up to a comfortable temperature.]
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Part of her was in awe but it felt embarrassing to think about herself, naked in his bed, in any way arousing to anyone let alone him. Yet, he looked at her, touched her, and kissed her as if he was as in awe as she was. No one else had shown her that kindness, though it didn’t bear thinking about.
The things she barely remembered saying - begging him for more and more - and the sounds they had both made caused her face flush. Then she hears a knock on the door and hurriedly covers her lap.]
I could have helped, you know.
[She smiles softly at him as he moves to the tub, leaning back on her hands. She debated covering her chest too, but he had already seen that hadn’t he?
She moves to stand, her knees nearly buckling from how they still felt uneasy, the throbbing between her thighs growing in discomfort. Maybe they had gotten a bit carried away. Carefully, she moves to stand behind him, putting her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his back.]
Thank you for the bath.
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I don't mind doing it if it's for you.
[Lugging water halfway across this old airship and wearing his arms out isn't an inconvenience if it means Jill can have even this little bit of comfort. It's the least Clive can do, anyway, after the state he left her in.
As he keeps warming the water, he hears her shift from the bed, but stays focused on his task. At least, until he feels the heat of her body pressed against his back. A breath catches in his throat and he remembers how she acted similarly on the beach. Things are different now. Much more...physical, though his affection for her remains as strong as ever.
When the water starts to steam he pulls his hand back and rests it atop her own on his waist, giving it a little squeeze. Then he turns in her hold and tips her head up, pressing his lips to hers.]
You're welcome.
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Mm. You’re definitely spoiling me, I think.
[Holding onto one of his arms she sticks one foot into the steaming water, testing it carefully with her toes first. She adds her other foot a moment later and lowers herself into the tub, letting him go once she’s sure her unsteadily legs could support her.]
Hm. I’d ask if you could fit - just so you don’t have to worry about another trip but..
[Can we even keep our hands to ourselves? She looks up at him as her sentence trails off.]
Can this fit us both?
[She really is curious, even if it might be a terrible idea. It’s an amusing one too. Her eyes wander down and then upward from his torso to his face.]
You are rather large.
[Definitely amused by the idea.]
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[If drawing a bath is all Clive can do for her, then he is a sorry excuse for a gentleman. At least he does allow her to steady herself against his arm as she gets in the tub, only pulling away when she's submerged most of herself in the water.
Clive moves to fetch a bar of soap for Jill when she all but invites him to get in the bath, too. Of course, he wants to; staying close to Jill is the most appealing thing he could think of right now. But the tub is small and he is a solid man. He exhales and brings the soap with him as he plops down next to the tub.]
I'll bathe after you. Don't worry about me.
[Yes, using the same water. He's wiped himself questionably clean with far worse before and lived to tell the tale. Jill washing herself clean of sex - sex with Clive himself - doesn't fill him with disgust or make him grit his teeth at the idea.
If he were to squeeze in, it would be a tight fit and it's possible the water would be displaced so much that it goes to waste. Instead, Clive holds out the soap in his hand.]
I can...still help you, though. Wash your back, if you'd like.
[Or whatever she wants him to do, short of potentially causing a tub accident.]
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You almost make it sound as if I’ve been inconvenienced somehow. I was the one who came here.
[She does understand the sentiment, though. What she had experienced - what Imrann had put her through to make her his monster - wasn’t something she liked to think about. Still, being with Clive? That made all of that pain worth it. The love she felt for him - even if never voiced - had been worth it.
For a moment she just looks at him, lifting up a bit to lean in and kiss him.]
If you like, you could. I won’t say no.
[Moving her long hair to one shoulder, she sits back down in the tub and leans forward, hugging her legs and leaving her back exposed to him.]
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His smile falls a little as his voice softens.]
I know. I only wish I could give you more. Give you better. Life here is better than in some places, but we are still scraping by most of the time.
[When he lifts his head and looks at her again, he's met with a kiss. And even after what they've done, Clive finds that the act steals his breath for a moment. The simplest thing and he is reduced to this.
It only lasts a moment before he gets a hold of himself again. Jill has given him permission to be a part of her bath if he isn't going to actually join her and helpfully bares her back. Right.
Before he does so, however, he tugs his shirt back off and tosses it behind him, where it lands with a quiet whump. He'll deal with it later. Moving to kneel behind her, he cups his hands in the water and pours it over one shoulder, then the other, and down the middle of her back until her skin is wet. He takes the bar of soap and wets it, as well, lathering up his hands. Gently, a little hesitantly, he presses his hands to her back and starts to smooth them over her skin.
There's no real strategy to his movements aside from trying to get what he can see soaped up and Jill will probably be able to tell. But it's not like he's ever done this for someone else before. And he's not trying to entice her for another round, so careful movements are employed so as not to reach around her sides too much and touch her breasts.
Despite very much wanting to, the boorish part of his mind tells him.
To distract himself, though, he tries to talk about something, anything.]
Have I ever told you that I like the color of your hair?
[...As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he grimaces. Founder, that sounds so stupid.]
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[She can feel the nervous energy rolling off of him and nearly tells him that it’s fine, that she won’t push him for anything he isn’t comfortable with.
Then she feels him pouring water over her back.
Her breath catches when he adds the soap, closing her eyes as he touches her only makes it worse. Her heart beats a little faster as he touches her and his hands move to her sides. His words only barely distract her.]
I don’t think I’ve ever paid much attention to it. Yours, however… you’ve grown it out a bit.
[She can’t help her own embarrassment at her own fumbling attempt. She’s grown hers out too since they were children, obviously.]
Mine can sometimes get in the way. I don’t mind it though.
[She’s definitely distracted by his hands. Founder, she hopes he can’t tell.]
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Obviously, they've both grown their hair out since they were children. Clive continues to let his go, though he trims it when it gets to be a nuisance. It's nothing really fitting of the Rosfield name, but that's so far down on his list of priorities that he hardly ever thinks about it.
Jill, on the other hand, always looks like she could walk into any castle or palace and fit right in. She possesses a natural elegance, no matter how she may style her hair, Clive thinks.]
It suits you.
[Satisfied with his work, he submerges his hands in the water to rinse them of the excess soap before cupping more water to pour over her skin again. It takes a little longer to wash the soap off and as time wears on, he grows more comfortable rubbing his hands along her back. It's certainly nothing he dislikes.
...Clive thinks he would like to do this for as long as the night lasts.
Instead, he gives her back one more cursory rinse, if a little slower than necessary, and then exhales.]
Would you...like me to continue?
[He clears his throat.]
Ah...I'm not trying to be funny.
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Her train of thought is broken when he asks if she wants him to continue. Her mouth suddenly feels dry. He said that he wasn’t trying to be funny, but the feeling of his hands on her at all was difficult to be unaffected by even if she wanted to go no further than that at the moment.
He was already doing a thorough job of cleaning her back. It was reasonable that she let him continue, wasn’t it? He will be touching her chest, of course. The thought made the butterflies that much worse. After a moment she nods in answer and unfolds her legs, staring down at the now somewhat soapy water. ]
Like this? Or do you want me to turn around?
[Which ever way, it didn’t matter. She just hoped her body would not react. Founder, that would be embarrassing. She also wonders if it’s better that she stay turned away from him, despite asking. He wouldn’t see her face if anything embarrassing did happen.]
I know… I know you’re not trying to be funny.
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[It will be easier to reach her that way from where he still sits, behind. And, since he's already offered to do this, he gets to it, though he focuses on one of her arms first.]
If my presence becomes too much, tell me. I won't be offended.
[Like with her back, Clive rubs his soapy hands along her arm, down from the top and lifting it out of the water to continue along her forearm and along her hand and fingers. Then he lowers her arm back into the water and rinses the soap off.
Once that's done, he shifts a little behind her and, on his way to her other side, leans forward to press a light kiss to the base of her neck.]
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No, you could never be too much.
[She bites her bottom lip and when his fingers find hers, she laces them for a moment before letting go so that her hand can go back into the water. When he moves on, the feeling of his mouth on her skin draws a sharp intake from her.]
I don't think I've ever been pampered so much like this. Maybe I should do the same for you?
[She laughs a bit, wanting very much to run her fingers through his hair if he kept kissing her neck like that. It's too soon for that. She has to remind herself. The ache between her thighs was a good reminder. It was still somewhat embarrassing, thinking back on it. They hadn't exactly been quiet.]
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Clive wonders what her life would have been like had his father never taken her from the North, from her own father. Surely she would have been cared for, though he cannot pretend to know how the Northern Tribes would have treated their own Dominant. Then again, anywhere would have been better than the Iron Kingdom. His heart breaks anew when he thinks of her captivity with those fiends. Thirteen years a prisoner.
Even longer, counting her time in Rosaria, really, even if she was treated well enough when they were all children. She never had a choice how she wanted to live.
Clive exhales against her skin, but keeps these thoughts to himself.
They're too upsetting for the kind of night they've shared. Moving on, he brushes a kiss against her shoulder.]
I would be happy to do this whenever you wished, but you need not feel obligated to do the same for me.
[He goes through the motions and cleans her other arm.]
As long as you are content, then I am content.
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Mm. It would… give us an excuse to spend time together.
[Even her voice is breathless, distracted. She couldn’t get enough of his kisses or the attention he was giving her as he bathed her. It made her heart feel full that he wanted to show care for her.]
I think I’m very content right now.
[She bites her lip, closing her eyes to better focus on him washing her arm.]
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It takes a second for her words to sink in, though, and he frowns at them. They don't need an excuse to spend time together. Everyone knows they're close - though to what extent Clive hasn't asked and he never intends to - so being around each other shouldn't be strange.
Instead of moving to clean her chest, Clive just looks at her in the moonlight. She's still so beautiful. She has been for years. He probably even knew it as a teenager, back when they still lived in Rosalith, that she would grow up to be one of the prettiest girls at court. He probably would have swallowed back his courage to do anything about it for a long time, too.
But not this time, even though he's already put his feelings out there. Raising a hand, he rests his fingertips against her cheek and gently nudges her face toward him. Then, without a word, he leans in and kisses her again, slowly, his lips lingering as he basks in her warmth and allows himself this much.]
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Her breath hitches as he guides her into a kiss. Her hand moves from his hair to his jaw. She relaxes into the kiss, just enjoying the moment; his hand on her cheek, the stubble on his chin where her fingers touched him, the softness of his lips on hers was racing through her thoughts as she deepens the kiss.
She never dreamed that they could be like this, never entertained the idea when they were young. Just being close to him made her heart skip a beat. For a second she comes up for air to simply leaves lingering kisses on his cheek and his jaw before finding his lips again to deepen the kiss.]