Her voice works like puppet string, fine and thin looking until you try to move opposite and you're snagged, blood and all-- like a charm, the hand on her ass slides away to snag to the waistband of his own pants to tug them down in one fell, shaky swoop, underwear and all. The movement isn't enough to hide the trembling of his knees as they knock together and widen for Kara's work on him, his own fingers stalling and jerking erratically inside her.
All Wolfwood can do is lean his weight back against the table with every rock of hips against her fingers, his teeth find purchase along the column of her throat. Her pulse skyrockets beneath his tongue, where he worries it there over and over for some semblance of control, of something, of connection, of that rush of the river of life--
"Nnnh...Kara, c'mon...hurry up...need--" he groans into her neck, inhaling sharply. If he doesn't get it now he's going to go insane.
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1/8/15 08:29 (UTC)All Wolfwood can do is lean his weight back against the table with every rock of hips against her fingers, his teeth find purchase along the column of her throat. Her pulse skyrockets beneath his tongue, where he worries it there over and over for some semblance of control, of something, of connection, of that rush of the river of life--
"Nnnh...Kara, c'mon...hurry up...need--" he groans into her neck, inhaling sharply. If he doesn't get it now he's going to go insane.
"Could and would if you would just--"