[ Breathless but still smiling. Grinning, even. He thinks of Cid for a brief moment, and hears that low, sandpaper drawl saying that everyone should be able to choose how they die.
Funny and morbid, at the same time. He casts that thought aside, and he cranes up to kiss the underside of Jill's jaw. ]
Jill. [ Lower, huskier. ] Will you let me have you tonight?
[She thanks every star she can see in her mind's eye that she's not standing. That question would send her to the floor were she on her feet. Her heart pounds so fast it's painful. A shaky sigh comes next, nervous, but there's still a smile on her lips and in her eyes as she tips his face so that he can see it.]
Gladly. [A beat, uncertain, because he's been with her since she was given her freedom.] As long as you... don't mind that I've... no real idea what I'm doing.
[Not with a lover. Not in any manner that's mutual, consensual.]
[ He tips to meet that look, and his throat goes dry. He wants her in ways that make his head swim, so deeply that it makes his chest ache; she'd come into his life after thirteen years praying for death, and made him want to live again. For his future, for her future.
Wrapping fingers around her wrist, Clive maneuvers her hand so that he can kiss along its knuckles. Slow and reverent, lips to her skin as he responds. ]
Neither do I. [ Not in any way that's ever mattered. He smiles, encouraging, and nips at the base of her ring finger. ] I'm sure we can figure it out together.
[ Mostly, he wants to flip positions and make her come until she can't anymore, but he'll keep that card close to his chest for now. ]
I would promise not to laugh, but I don't wish to break a promise when my nerves get the better of me.
[Giddy, wonderful nerves. Because this is important to her. Because she's only imagined what he would feel like, taste like, sound like. Because this can't be her good fortune.
She turns her hand in his to run her fingertips over the line of his bottom lip. Now that she knows what they feel like against her mouth and neck, she wants to know what they would feel like on the rest of her. Her breasts, between her legs--]
I want you, Clive.
[It will have to do instead of I love you. I need you comes close, but so many people need him. Fetch this, fight this, solve this. She needs him too, but her want is what feels stronger. She'll always want him. Always.]
[ Mirrored thoughts of needing, wanting. Since childhood, it's always been Jill― Jill, whose smile made the jagged edges of court life more bearable; Jill, whose unhappiness he couldn't bear; Jill, who he thinks about on restless nights.
Biting gently against her thumb, Clive fixes his blue, blue eyes on her, his focus as sharp as his blade. The sort of look he gets in battle, when his concentration has narrowed to a fine point. ]
As do I. [ His voice scrapes the back of his throat, hot with anticipation. ] ―Will you roll onto your back for me?
[ A kiss against where he'd bitten, then a light suck to her index. His tongue laves against her skin. ] I want to taste you.
[He nearly asks the impossible of her. How is she supposed to move away from him, even for a moment, when he's looking at her like that? Talking to her like that? Has his mouth on her like that? Jill almost laughs, but her throat has gone dry.
She takes one more kiss from him, a favor for those awful moments apart, before she takes a deep breath and rolls off of him. Compared to the heat of his skin, the air of the room is cold.
However quickly he moves is too slow for Jill, her hand reaching for him.]
[ He doesn't need to be told twice. Like fire lapping at ice, he sits up when bid and carefully, carefully swings himself up and over Jill's form, letting her hand sit on his shoulder while he brackets her thighs with his own.
Momentarily, he fears being imposing. Their difference in size means that he envelops Jill completely, and once he rests forward to settle his elbows on either side of her lovely face, he has her entirely trapped underneath him.
But gods, he wants her. Stroking her hair, still with those sword-sharp eyes that says he wants to swallow her whole, he presses down with his body just slightly to oblige "come here". Not enough that she couldn't slide away if she wanted to; he'd never actually want to make her feel caged. ]
Is this alright?
[ Though he won't be staying loomed over he for too long. He balances his weight on his knees and one elbow, while his free hand roams down to slowly, gingerly slide the hem of his shirt up from her knees to her waist. ]
[They were apart when Clive grew into a man, tall and strong. Just as she missed when Joshua went from below her line of sight to towering over her, it’s the most obvious evidence of the years passing. She supposes she's changed, too. Soft curves and gentle dips rather than hard muscle. A woman, not a girl. It’s a contrast to Clive, but not one she minds. They fit together perfectly. She knows it even if he's so mindful as to not crush her. Her softness welcomes his hard edges.
She doesn't feel trapped. She feels safe. She always does, with him, and now is no different.]
It is. It’s okay, Clive.
[That he worries only makes Jill all the more certain this is right for them. Her hands roam over his sides, over his ribs, sliding up and down against his lower back.
She feels jittery and full of electricity but it's all entirely pleasant and good and while she doesn't say she loves him, it's there in her eyes and her smile.
How she wishes she could see the wide span of his hand against her thigh, but said large man is a little in the way. A gift and a curse, his size.
... Jill feels her face flush anew at the sudden realization of how big other parts of him may be, too.]
[ Permission granted, both verbally and physically. Jill's hands wander over him, restless and exploratory, and the feeling of it― the way it feels so correct, like going home－ makes him release tension from his shoulders, breathe a low sound of contentment from the pit of his stomach.
He stays in that cradle for a few seconds, indulging in her, before he sits up again. With how he's straddling her, the clear interest between his legs is hard to ignore: he is, in fact, Big.
The intention isn't to flaunt his cock at her, though. One hand tugs at the shirt he's pulled up just over Jill's navel, and he asks, a bit coquettishly: ]
I know I offered it, but now I'll have to take this from you again.
[Quite Big. Jill's eyes linger on his groin for a moment too long before sweeping over his body (and maybe stumbling along his abdomen and chest), settling on his face. She smiles, hand tracing along his arm, but there's no effort to stop him. She simply doesn't want to take her hands away from him now that she knows touch is welcome between them.
Having her belly exposed makes her bite back a laugh, although part of that might be nerves. He may have caught sight of her bare back once or twice as they politely took care of their hygiene on the road, but nothing so bold as her laid out below him, breasts bare.]
I was only borrowing it.
[Jill pushes herself up on her elbows. Look, it's the truth. It's only polite that she gives it back to him.]
[ He's only see collages of her: bared shoulderblades here, unbooted leg there. Just the sight of her in nothing but his shirt is intoxicating enough, but the slow reveal of her skin from the navel up makes Clive feel even more cramped in his trousers.
All that perfect skin. Her soft curves, the outline of her. Clive helps her shimmy out of the top, and though he knows that it's impolite to stare― one should never make a lady feel like she's being appraised― it would be easier to lose a limb than to tear his eyes away from Jill in the moment.
The shirt gets tossed aside. Not even an afterthought. A palm slides up Jill's exposed stomach, just below the perfect curve of her breasts. ]
No god in any realm could have made you.
[ Fuck Ultima, honestly. She's so beautiful that it aches. ]
You're perfect.
[ A dip down, and he puts his mouth on her collarbone; sucks a bite there, and slides lower near her heart. ]
[By now, there's nearly no part of her that isn't tinged pink. The blush goes from the tips of her ears to the tips of her toes, nipples rosy and pert and she's suddenly very aware of how her breasts sit on her chest, especially laying down. But Clive hardly allows her a moment to consider how she may look. He's certainly pleased, and she laughs. She's silly with love for him.
The hand on her ribcage doesn't help her think any more clearly. Nor does his mouth, and she buries a hand in his hair, pressing a kiss to his crown as he moves down.]
[ 'Pleased' is an understatement. There's no word in any language, alive or dead, to describe the thrill of being permitted to worship Jill's body like this―
―because that's what he intends to do, with his hands and his mouth (and maybe with the erection currently straining painfully against his trousers, if the size of it doesn't scare Jill off. Bigger isn't always better). Humming against her flushed skin, he kisses down to one breast and noses lightly against her very cute nipple (is that a weird thing to think about a nipple, he doesn't know) before putting his lips over it.
He'd say something about the incredibly sweet thing she's just said to him, but his mouth is busy. Another hum, head lifting from one peak to tend to the other, and he finally murmurs: ] Then I'm the luckiest man in Valisthea.
[ A kiss between her soft breasts, and he works his way further down. At any point, he's prepared to linger and pay attention to anything that Jill seems to like; blue eyes flick up occasionally, trying to gauge her reaction. ]
[He could have just said he intends to burn all of Valisthea and Jill would be none the wiser. Her entire being is focused on his mouth and his touch and his body and his eyes. And her breasts in his mouth--that's the most lewd and arousing thing she's ever experienced and she forgets to breathe for a few moments until the air comes out on a sigh and a laugh. She should probably do more than be a boneless heap on her back, but she focuses first on remembering to breathe. Air is good.
Her lungs rally, albeit a little unevenly, and she gives Clive a dazed smile.
She thinks about how he must feel inside her, gentle and tender and hot and she thinks she's going to die from how badly she wants every inch of him.
Speaking comes next as the neurons begin to fire again.]
What?
[She loves everything he does. It's so surreal, a dream come true. For a moment she doesn't know what to do with her hands and ends up patting him on the head like she might Torgal.]
[ She asks him what?, and it's the first time Clive ever experiences what passes for cute aggression: an impulse to sink teeth into soft skin, to take a bite out of her because she's so sweet.
That would be a Bad Dog move, though, and she's petting him as if he's a Good Boy, so. Clive laughs instead of doing anything unhinged, letting his warm breath dance over Jill's navel, which he also puts his mouth on.
His tongue scours ever downwards, then to the side. He leaves a lovemark on the jut of her hip, just above the waistband of her panties; he scoots further, displacing himself and maneuvering Jill so that he can situate himself between her spread thighs. He hikes one of her perfect legs, and litters kisses along her inner thigh. ]
You're lovely when you're out of your mind, [ he teases. ]
[She hums, fingers giving his hair a gentle tug as he leaves yet another mark on her. She's gone from feeling tipsy to feeling helplessly intoxicated. It's all because of him. If a hangover comes from this rush of love, anticipation, and joy? Well, he's with it.
Never in a thousand years dare she actually believe she'd have Clive between her legs. A fantasy on a lonely night, yes, but something forever out of reach for one reason or another. Their duties. Their responsibilities. Their own worries about what admitting what they both know is there might invite upon them.
But here he is, and her knee is hooked on his shoulder and she could die right now and be content. A good look downwards reveals the thin material damp from desire.]
I'm glad. [Because it's all his fault. She reaches for his face with her fingertips, wanting to touch.] I feel like I'm floating.
[ He shifts and cranes up to meet Jill's fingers, letting his face nuzzle against her palm. ]
Well, you are an ethereal beauty.
[ Still teasing. He's not one for poetry, though－ he's clumsy with the line, and he chuckles at himself for the horrid attempt.
He remains rested against her hand, happy to let Jill set the pace. A happy conundrum, being unable to decide if he wants to claim her immediately or if he wants her to boss him around. He didn't dare let himself fantasize about Jill like this before. ]
[The Torgal allegations will never cease with the way he nuzzles her palm.]
And very far away.
[Like the length of her body is that great a distance. She can still see him, touch him. She's waited her whole life to kiss him. She can survive some time apart. Probably.]
But you are a handsome sight.
[His tanned skin beneath her pale thigh, only a scrap of fabric between her and his mouth. How content he looks.]
[ Content, love-drunk. Clive thinks he must actually look unseemly and desperate, but he'd believe anything that comes out of Jill's mouth at this point. They've been fighting tooth and nail for scraps of peace between conflict, and this closeness feels especially hallowed.
Blue eyes melt; Clive is putty under Jill's scrutiny. With his chin still settled in her palm, he slides his free hand down to rake his thumb over that damp patch between her legs, throat bobbing in need at the feel of it. He can hardly believe that she's gotten wet for him. ]
I'd have you choose whether you want to keep looking, or allow me to touch you more.
[The touch, despite Jill sensing it coming, makes her whole body jump. A thing she laughs about, embarrassed. His touch summons nothing terrible beside a deeper ache for him. Her hips strain forward, hoping he might touch her again.]
Cruel. I want both. I'll go mad without either, I'm afraid.
[Jill doesn't often use a sad face to get her way, but there is a pout on her lips. It's offset by the amusement in her eyes. That's actually an impossible choice and she doubts he'd be able to choose either, were their positions reversed.
[ She pouts. Creator, she pouts. Jill, his Jill, who never once had a complaint despite all the ways in which she was endlessly entitled to them. The frown is meant to project playfulness instead of any significant distress, but Clive is grateful that she trusts him with it regardless. She could stand to demand more from him.
Love of my life, he thinks. He resumes the light petting, making slow, measured friction with his thumb as he sits up and tips forward to claim Jill's mouth again. Obliging 'both' as best he can, temporarily.
His hand snakes down the front of her underwear, under the waistband; she's hot and slick and inviting when he finally touches her, skin to skin, and Clive hums against her mouth in bare-faced appreciation. ]
One at a time, then. [ She can look at him plenty, later. He's not going anywhere. ]
[His mouth meets hers just in time for her to moan into his, unable to help herself. He's the only man she's ever wanted. The moan turns into a gasp, accompanied by another little jolt of her body.]
Clive... [There's so much fondness in one word, her hands cupping his face. She loves him. She loves him terribly, and she doesn't know what to do with so much love, and she can't tell whether the urge to fuck him recklessly or hold and kiss him slowly is stronger. Both. Everything.]
I want everything with you. Everything.
[Love. A life together, beyond this seemingly endless fight, whatever that looks like. Maybe they'll marry. Have children. Maybe they'll travel the world, beyond Valisthea. As long as they're together, she'll be happy.]
[ Everything. Clive keeps touching Jill, kissing the sweet sounds out of her mouth, feeling overwhelmed from just this, the slow and steady exploration of each other's boundaries. He has no idea what 'everything' looks like, what it will offer them once all of the crystals are gone and they're left to pick up the fragments of this battered, tired world.
But he wants it. Wants something better, with Jill. He wants his hand in hers, and wants the certainty of her beside him.
And he wants this, too. The feeling of her clutching around his fingers when he quests them inside her, making up for the intrusion with more kisses. Assuring her that it's just him, and that she's cared for. ]
―Everything I have to give is yours.
[ Delayed, but sincere. I adore you, he projects with the faint smile on his lips; he pulls away afterwards, testing to see if she'll let him slide back down again. ]
[His words and his touch make her whimper. An embarrassing sound, most times, but not with him. He should know what he does to her. He should know she wants him, body pressing closer, hands grasping at his back.
He's enough. For so long he's been made to feel like his worth is tied to what he can do for others. If she can make him truly know he's loved simply because of who he is, she'll consider her time on this earth well spent.
When he pulls away, her hands linger on him, but she doesn't pout this time.]
You're going to be the death of me.
[Because she can guess his intent. This is what will kill her, not a blade. She laughs and drops her head back onto the bed.]
[ A laugh, pressed to Jill's navel, and then: ] I hope not.
[ Please, do not die here. Not now. He'd follow suit instantly, and then the world will be fucked forever.
With that joke out of the way, he slides back down to the welcome cradle of Jill's thighs, where he makes the executive and audacious decision to divest her of her last scrap of clothing so that he can do exactly as he'd said he wanted to do: taste her. Warm lips, hot tongue. He licks a long stripe along her seam, with his hand holding one of her thighs to brace him. ]
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[ Breathless but still smiling. Grinning, even. He thinks of Cid for a brief moment, and hears that low, sandpaper drawl saying that everyone should be able to choose how they die.
Funny and morbid, at the same time. He casts that thought aside, and he cranes up to kiss the underside of Jill's jaw. ]
Jill. [ Lower, huskier. ] Will you let me have you tonight?
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Gladly. [A beat, uncertain, because he's been with her since she was given her freedom.] As long as you... don't mind that I've... no real idea what I'm doing.
[Not with a lover. Not in any manner that's mutual, consensual.]
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Wrapping fingers around her wrist, Clive maneuvers her hand so that he can kiss along its knuckles. Slow and reverent, lips to her skin as he responds. ]
Neither do I. [ Not in any way that's ever mattered. He smiles, encouraging, and nips at the base of her ring finger. ] I'm sure we can figure it out together.
[ Mostly, he wants to flip positions and make her come until she can't anymore, but he'll keep that card close to his chest for now. ]
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[Giddy, wonderful nerves. Because this is important to her. Because she's only imagined what he would feel like, taste like, sound like. Because this can't be her good fortune.
She turns her hand in his to run her fingertips over the line of his bottom lip. Now that she knows what they feel like against her mouth and neck, she wants to know what they would feel like on the rest of her. Her breasts, between her legs--]
I want you, Clive.
[It will have to do instead of I love you. I need you comes close, but so many people need him. Fetch this, fight this, solve this. She needs him too, but her want is what feels stronger. She'll always want him. Always.]
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Biting gently against her thumb, Clive fixes his blue, blue eyes on her, his focus as sharp as his blade. The sort of look he gets in battle, when his concentration has narrowed to a fine point. ]
As do I. [ His voice scrapes the back of his throat, hot with anticipation. ] ―Will you roll onto your back for me?
[ A kiss against where he'd bitten, then a light suck to her index. His tongue laves against her skin. ] I want to taste you.
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She takes one more kiss from him, a favor for those awful moments apart, before she takes a deep breath and rolls off of him. Compared to the heat of his skin, the air of the room is cold.
However quickly he moves is too slow for Jill, her hand reaching for him.]
Come here.
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Momentarily, he fears being imposing. Their difference in size means that he envelops Jill completely, and once he rests forward to settle his elbows on either side of her lovely face, he has her entirely trapped underneath him.
But gods, he wants her. Stroking her hair, still with those sword-sharp eyes that says he wants to swallow her whole, he presses down with his body just slightly to oblige "come here". Not enough that she couldn't slide away if she wanted to; he'd never actually want to make her feel caged. ]
Is this alright?
[ Though he won't be staying loomed over he for too long. He balances his weight on his knees and one elbow, while his free hand roams down to slowly, gingerly slide the hem of his shirt up from her knees to her waist. ]
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She doesn't feel trapped. She feels safe. She always does, with him, and now is no different.]
It is. It’s okay, Clive.
[That he worries only makes Jill all the more certain this is right for them. Her hands roam over his sides, over his ribs, sliding up and down against his lower back.
She feels jittery and full of electricity but it's all entirely pleasant and good and while she doesn't say she loves him, it's there in her eyes and her smile.
How she wishes she could see the wide span of his hand against her thigh, but said large man is a little in the way. A gift and a curse, his size.
... Jill feels her face flush anew at the sudden realization of how big other parts of him may be, too.]
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He stays in that cradle for a few seconds, indulging in her, before he sits up again. With how he's straddling her, the clear interest between his legs is hard to ignore: he is, in fact, Big.
The intention isn't to flaunt his cock at her, though. One hand tugs at the shirt he's pulled up just over Jill's navel, and he asks, a bit coquettishly: ]
I know I offered it, but now I'll have to take this from you again.
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Having her belly exposed makes her bite back a laugh, although part of that might be nerves. He may have caught sight of her bare back once or twice as they politely took care of their hygiene on the road, but nothing so bold as her laid out below him, breasts bare.]
I was only borrowing it.
[Jill pushes herself up on her elbows. Look, it's the truth. It's only polite that she gives it back to him.]
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All that perfect skin. Her soft curves, the outline of her. Clive helps her shimmy out of the top, and though he knows that it's impolite to stare― one should never make a lady feel like she's being appraised― it would be easier to lose a limb than to tear his eyes away from Jill in the moment.
The shirt gets tossed aside. Not even an afterthought. A palm slides up Jill's exposed stomach, just below the perfect curve of her breasts. ]
No god in any realm could have made you.
[ Fuck Ultima, honestly. She's so beautiful that it aches. ]
You're perfect.
[ A dip down, and he puts his mouth on her collarbone; sucks a bite there, and slides lower near her heart. ]
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The hand on her ribcage doesn't help her think any more clearly. Nor does his mouth, and she buries a hand in his hair, pressing a kiss to his crown as he moves down.]
However I came to be, I'm here for you, Clive.
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―because that's what he intends to do, with his hands and his mouth (and maybe with the erection currently straining painfully against his trousers, if the size of it doesn't scare Jill off. Bigger isn't always better). Humming against her flushed skin, he kisses down to one breast and noses lightly against her very cute nipple (is that a weird thing to think about a nipple, he doesn't know) before putting his lips over it.
He'd say something about the incredibly sweet thing she's just said to him, but his mouth is busy. Another hum, head lifting from one peak to tend to the other, and he finally murmurs: ] Then I'm the luckiest man in Valisthea.
[ A kiss between her soft breasts, and he works his way further down. At any point, he's prepared to linger and pay attention to anything that Jill seems to like; blue eyes flick up occasionally, trying to gauge her reaction. ]
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Her lungs rally, albeit a little unevenly, and she gives Clive a dazed smile.
She thinks about how he must feel inside her, gentle and tender and hot and she thinks she's going to die from how badly she wants every inch of him.
Speaking comes next as the neurons begin to fire again.]
What?
[She loves everything he does. It's so surreal, a dream come true. For a moment she doesn't know what to do with her hands and ends up patting him on the head like she might Torgal.]
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That would be a Bad Dog move, though, and she's petting him as if he's a Good Boy, so. Clive laughs instead of doing anything unhinged, letting his warm breath dance over Jill's navel, which he also puts his mouth on.
His tongue scours ever downwards, then to the side. He leaves a lovemark on the jut of her hip, just above the waistband of her panties; he scoots further, displacing himself and maneuvering Jill so that he can situate himself between her spread thighs. He hikes one of her perfect legs, and litters kisses along her inner thigh. ]
You're lovely when you're out of your mind, [ he teases. ]
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Never in a thousand years dare she actually believe she'd have Clive between her legs. A fantasy on a lonely night, yes, but something forever out of reach for one reason or another. Their duties. Their responsibilities. Their own worries about what admitting what they both know is there might invite upon them.
But here he is, and her knee is hooked on his shoulder and she could die right now and be content. A good look downwards reveals the thin material damp from desire.]
I'm glad. [Because it's all his fault. She reaches for his face with her fingertips, wanting to touch.] I feel like I'm floating.
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Well, you are an ethereal beauty.
[ Still teasing. He's not one for poetry, though－ he's clumsy with the line, and he chuckles at himself for the horrid attempt.
He remains rested against her hand, happy to let Jill set the pace. A happy conundrum, being unable to decide if he wants to claim her immediately or if he wants her to boss him around. He didn't dare let himself fantasize about Jill like this before. ]
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[The Torgal allegations will never cease with the way he nuzzles her palm.]
And very far away.
[Like the length of her body is that great a distance. She can still see him, touch him. She's waited her whole life to kiss him. She can survive some time apart. Probably.]
But you are a handsome sight.
[His tanned skin beneath her pale thigh, only a scrap of fabric between her and his mouth. How content he looks.]
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Blue eyes melt; Clive is putty under Jill's scrutiny. With his chin still settled in her palm, he slides his free hand down to rake his thumb over that damp patch between her legs, throat bobbing in need at the feel of it. He can hardly believe that she's gotten wet for him. ]
I'd have you choose whether you want to keep looking, or allow me to touch you more.
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Cruel. I want both. I'll go mad without either, I'm afraid.
[Jill doesn't often use a sad face to get her way, but there is a pout on her lips. It's offset by the amusement in her eyes. That's actually an impossible choice and she doubts he'd be able to choose either, were their positions reversed.
Maybe they will be, soon.]
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Love of my life, he thinks. He resumes the light petting, making slow, measured friction with his thumb as he sits up and tips forward to claim Jill's mouth again. Obliging 'both' as best he can, temporarily.
His hand snakes down the front of her underwear, under the waistband; she's hot and slick and inviting when he finally touches her, skin to skin, and Clive hums against her mouth in bare-faced appreciation. ]
One at a time, then. [ She can look at him plenty, later. He's not going anywhere. ]
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Clive... [There's so much fondness in one word, her hands cupping his face. She loves him. She loves him terribly, and she doesn't know what to do with so much love, and she can't tell whether the urge to fuck him recklessly or hold and kiss him slowly is stronger. Both. Everything.]
I want everything with you. Everything.
[Love. A life together, beyond this seemingly endless fight, whatever that looks like. Maybe they'll marry. Have children. Maybe they'll travel the world, beyond Valisthea. As long as they're together, she'll be happy.]
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But he wants it. Wants something better, with Jill. He wants his hand in hers, and wants the certainty of her beside him.
And he wants this, too. The feeling of her clutching around his fingers when he quests them inside her, making up for the intrusion with more kisses. Assuring her that it's just him, and that she's cared for. ]
―Everything I have to give is yours.
[ Delayed, but sincere. I adore you, he projects with the faint smile on his lips; he pulls away afterwards, testing to see if she'll let him slide back down again. ]
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He's enough. For so long he's been made to feel like his worth is tied to what he can do for others. If she can make him truly know he's loved simply because of who he is, she'll consider her time on this earth well spent.
When he pulls away, her hands linger on him, but she doesn't pout this time.]
You're going to be the death of me.
[Because she can guess his intent. This is what will kill her, not a blade. She laughs and drops her head back onto the bed.]
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[ Please, do not die here. Not now. He'd follow suit instantly, and then the world will be fucked forever.
With that joke out of the way, he slides back down to the welcome cradle of Jill's thighs, where he makes the executive and audacious decision to divest her of her last scrap of clothing so that he can do exactly as he'd said he wanted to do: taste her. Warm lips, hot tongue. He licks a long stripe along her seam, with his hand holding one of her thighs to brace him. ]
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