[It's alright— he'd much rather swallow those words, feel them rumble against his tongue on the way down. Wave is a good girl (citation needed). She won't reject him now, not even if she ought to, and Kaeya knows that. Even so, he can't fight the bone-deep fear that the words on her tongue might be anything other than I wouldn't forget you.
He's better off assuming just as he's better off relenting to his bodily urges, leaning into that kiss and pressing their bodies flush against one another's. She ought not encourage him, but he's the last man who will scold her for it, leaving one palm against her cheek while the other crawls her body.
He's wanted to touch her like this since... oh, since he saw her in that high-hipped swimsuit, actually. Thinking about it now makes Kaeya laugh in the space between their kiss. Back home in Mond, a bit of bare skin — or a lot of it — isn't exactly a rare sight. There's just something about Wave, something he'll need to unpack, but he'll do that when his mind isn't occupied with the way her breast feels beneath his palm.]
[As his hands start to wander, Wave wraps her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together behind him. If he's worried, let her actions be her answer: Yes, she's encouraging him, dragging her fingers through his hair and thumb rubbing against his jaw. No, she's not denying him, teasing his lower lip between her teeth, maybe nipping a little harder when he thinks to laugh. (What are you laughing at, huh?) Yes, his hands can wander, and she lets out a short gasp when she feels the weight of one at her breast, back arching the little bit it can as a shiver runs through her body.
But no, she's not stopping him, and she brings both hands to his shoulders as they continue, fingers questing and exploring over lithe muscle. He's thoughtfully already stripped to the waist, and yes, she means to take full advantage of that, ghosting the pads of her fingertips over his skin, grazing the barest tips of her nails, looking to find how sensitive he is to her touch.
But there's more she wants to do with him than she can reach like this, and she thinks he feels the same. So when there's a moment, a breath, she looks at him through half-lidded eyes, breathing out the question lowly:] Should we take this inside? Or continue it here?
[Either way is fine by her, but he's going to have to let her down at some point if he wants to get her shorts off, to say nothing of the rest of her costume! The only immediately removable piece is the bow-tie choker, and that's not as frustratingly in the way as the rest.]
[Oh, he never fails to goosebump beneath her fingertips. Whether it's in the hot tub or out here in the cool evening breeze, he isn't prickling up beneath anything but those fingers, warming beneath her touch. He doesn't mind the heat when it's hers. If anything, every errant touch makes him want for more, and it sounds like he isn't alone.
How blessed he is. He'd just been thinking about how terribly scratchy her costume is and how he'd love to work her out of it. He eases out of their kiss with a smile, but rather than let Wave down to walk on her own two feet, he keeps her hooked over his hips on the way back into his room. Toeing the sliding door closed behind them, he lays her out on the mattress and settles right back in above her, content to pepper her cheeks in little featherlight kisses. He'll get back to misbehaving soon, don't you worry.]
This is more comfortable, isn't it? I'd hate to scratch your back up on the wall outside.
[He'll let the implication there make itself. Brow waggle.]
[There's a certain sort of satisfaction in seeing those goosebumps rise, knowing for a certainty that they're due to her, that even if he were to try and obfuscate and claim it was the chill air, the both of them know the truth of the matter. She laughs as he steps back from the wall, wrapping her arms around his neck for stability as he walks them into his room--she won't try to drop down to her feet; being carried like this is a gift, this knowledge that he's not going to drop her, the feeling of being held close by somebody that seems to want her just as much as she wants him, and the feel of every plane of his abs against her body. She'd be a fool to give that up, and Wave smiles up at him as he lays her out, reaching out to put one hand at the back of his neck so she can ensure those little kisses continue.]
I hope the implication here is you're planning to scratch my back up in here instead. Well--turnabout's fair play, isn't it?
[And that hand at his neck is just going to work its way down his back, slowly and purposefully dragging a single nail a little bit harder over his skin. Her other hand is free to roam where it couldn't before, and she won't hesitate to run her thumb over his hipbone, gently digging into the dip where the bone disappears into his pants.]
Edited (phone tagging is suffering in autocorrect) 2022-10-30 22:19 (UTC)
[That's the implication alright. Kaeya smiles, and his grin's all teeth, betraying every last bit of his intent. He doesn't plan on going easy for her, that's for damn sure, but he leans in to press a kiss to Wave's cheek and rumble low in her ear.]
So you've given me your permission? I'll have you know there are no takebacks in this bed.
[She actually manages to get a sound out of Kaeya, something like an airy groan, when that single nail drags down his back. And here he thought it was her back running the risk of getting scratched up. Chuckling, Kaeya kisses a trail down her jawline, her neck, to begin peeling her out of that terribly itchy top.]
And you should know I won't mind it one bit if you make a mess of my back. You may find it necessary to hang on tight.
[It's a challenge, that whisper, and Wave presses up against him in response, challenge reflected in the half-smile, half-smirk she gives him... which only grows at the sound of that groan. It's probably answer enough, but she can't help herself as he goes to work down her jaw, skimming both hands back up his sides in a feather-light brush, the exact opposite of a moment ago.]
I'm not planning on backing down. I want to see what you've got, Kaeya.
[But she doesn't plan to stop touching him until she has to. Her breath catches as he reaches her collarbone, fingers digging into his skin as she bites her lip to keep from loosing a moan of her own, but she arches again to help him along in removing her top, bare breasts spilling free once they're past the point of no return.
Now he's the one overdressed, she thinks, even if this has really just evened out the playing field. But for as much as she'd like to shove his pants off of him, she holds back for now. He's the one that started this with his talk of "punishing" her and making sure she doesn't forget; there's a sense of control that he's wielded so far that she's loathe to try and take away just yet. She's not about to just lie here complacent and docile--never a-fucking-gain--but she wants him to take this lead, to know that she's heard him. To know that even though she might have brought up that not-so-innocent thought, having just him on his own isn't a second-best option.
He can lead, and she'll absolutely fucking follow.]
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no subject
He's better off assuming just as he's better off relenting to his bodily urges, leaning into that kiss and pressing their bodies flush against one another's. She ought not encourage him, but he's the last man who will scold her for it, leaving one palm against her cheek while the other crawls her body.
He's wanted to touch her like this since... oh, since he saw her in that high-hipped swimsuit, actually. Thinking about it now makes Kaeya laugh in the space between their kiss. Back home in Mond, a bit of bare skin — or a lot of it — isn't exactly a rare sight. There's just something about Wave, something he'll need to unpack, but he'll do that when his mind isn't occupied with the way her breast feels beneath his palm.]
no subject
But no, she's not stopping him, and she brings both hands to his shoulders as they continue, fingers questing and exploring over lithe muscle. He's thoughtfully already stripped to the waist, and yes, she means to take full advantage of that, ghosting the pads of her fingertips over his skin, grazing the barest tips of her nails, looking to find how sensitive he is to her touch.
But there's more she wants to do with him than she can reach like this, and she thinks he feels the same. So when there's a moment, a breath, she looks at him through half-lidded eyes, breathing out the question lowly:] Should we take this inside? Or continue it here?
[Either way is fine by her, but he's going to have to let her down at some point if he wants to get her shorts off, to say nothing of the rest of her costume! The only immediately removable piece is the bow-tie choker, and that's not as frustratingly in the way as the rest.]
no subject
How blessed he is. He'd just been thinking about how terribly scratchy her costume is and how he'd love to work her out of it. He eases out of their kiss with a smile, but rather than let Wave down to walk on her own two feet, he keeps her hooked over his hips on the way back into his room. Toeing the sliding door closed behind them, he lays her out on the mattress and settles right back in above her, content to pepper her cheeks in little featherlight kisses. He'll get back to misbehaving soon, don't you worry.]
This is more comfortable, isn't it? I'd hate to scratch your back up on the wall outside.
[He'll let the implication there make itself. Brow waggle.]
no subject
I hope the implication here is you're planning to scratch my back up in here instead. Well--turnabout's fair play, isn't it?
[And that hand at his neck is just going to work its way down his back, slowly and purposefully dragging a single nail a little bit harder over his skin. Her other hand is free to roam where it couldn't before, and she won't hesitate to run her thumb over his hipbone, gently digging into the dip where the bone disappears into his pants.]
no subject
So you've given me your permission? I'll have you know there are no takebacks in this bed.
[She actually manages to get a sound out of Kaeya, something like an airy groan, when that single nail drags down his back. And here he thought it was her back running the risk of getting scratched up. Chuckling, Kaeya kisses a trail down her jawline, her neck, to begin peeling her out of that terribly itchy top.]
And you should know I won't mind it one bit if you make a mess of my back. You may find it necessary to hang on tight.
no subject
I'm not planning on backing down. I want to see what you've got, Kaeya.
[But she doesn't plan to stop touching him until she has to. Her breath catches as he reaches her collarbone, fingers digging into his skin as she bites her lip to keep from loosing a moan of her own, but she arches again to help him along in removing her top, bare breasts spilling free once they're past the point of no return.
Now he's the one overdressed, she thinks, even if this has really just evened out the playing field. But for as much as she'd like to shove his pants off of him, she holds back for now. He's the one that started this with his talk of "punishing" her and making sure she doesn't forget; there's a sense of control that he's wielded so far that she's loathe to try and take away just yet. She's not about to just lie here complacent and docile--never a-fucking-gain--but she wants him to take this lead, to know that she's heard him. To know that even though she might have brought up that not-so-innocent thought, having just him on his own isn't a second-best option.
He can lead, and she'll absolutely fucking follow.]