When the dress fell away so easily, exposing what felt like miles of warm bare skin, he could feel that jolt of attraction settling deeper and he paused to take in the sight, admiring. βI think,β Cassian said slowly, his words interrupted whenever he stopped to press a leisurely kiss to her throat, her clavicle, downward, βthat could be arranged.β
And he took direction well in all things, it seemed, even this: the man was accustomed to being a weapon, to being turned and led and directed to enact violence, to get the job done. But this was a far more enjoyable task, with Inara in his lap and that low warmth in her voice, gently tilting his head where she wanted him to go. He followed willingly, pleased.
His hands splayed against the small of her back and braced against the curve of her spine, as he kept trailing downwards to map her now-exposed chest, before he finally reached the intended destination; he bent his head to one breast with the warm wet heat of his mouth, alternating sucking and then his tongue laving at a nipple, curling playfully around it.
She was a woman full of magnetizing appeal; soft on the eyes, graceful on the ears, and something many wished to own and possess for themselves. There was never a guest she had who could truly compel her to falter and find gentle purchase in their embrace for very long. The only person who could truly pull her from any emotional lulls and remaining sentiments she had for anyone else was Cassian. As she sat before his lap, she leaned back and showed him every inch of herself, hands and eyes gesturing him to truly drink up her appearance and indulge. It was a sentiment they both had mutually agreed upon and even if nothing else came from this encounter, this moment would be forever cherished by her. Pleasure and pain, co-existing as one was more than fine with her.
As his strong hands braced her, she closed her eyes gently and focused on the sensation of his coarse but warm lips against the bare skin of her breast, drawing and pulling forth a fluttering moan from her. Her hands in turn gripped his shoulders for support, gracefully holding him and feeling how much of a connection they had. There were times where it felt like she didn't have to say a word and he understood her. Other times he just helped her feel at ease, comfortable with simply existing. No need for displays of her skills, for desires or nothing elseβ
Ever since Bix left, heβd been subsisting on anonymous trysts where real names werenβt even exchanged — it was simpler, he always told himself that it was simpler to not get involved with anyone within the rebellion cells, where their loyalties might wind up divided — but there was something comforting in drifting to bed with a friend after all. Inara knew him. Sheβd be moaning his name by the end of the night, and vice versa, and not a pseudonym. There was trust in this: baring herself literally and figuratively for him, both of them letting their armour fall away, allowing themselves this indulgence.
Cassian was still fully-dressed but clearly didnβt seem to mind the disparity, with an appreciative hum against her breast, his stubble scraping against her skin as he mouthed and licked at her. His hands drifted lower, settling on the curve of her ass, and gave a warm squeeze; exploring her curves, the shape of her, grinding her into his lap. Positioned as she is, she could feel the hard ridge of his erection beneath her, already hopelessly turned-on.
It had been a while since heβd let this guard down with anyone. Sex was a personal distraction from the job, the responsibility, the missions, the war, but—
maybe they could let themselves have something nice, once in a while.
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And he took direction well in all things, it seemed, even this: the man was accustomed to being a weapon, to being turned and led and directed to enact violence, to get the job done. But this was a far more enjoyable task, with Inara in his lap and that low warmth in her voice, gently tilting his head where she wanted him to go. He followed willingly, pleased.
His hands splayed against the small of her back and braced against the curve of her spine, as he kept trailing downwards to map her now-exposed chest, before he finally reached the intended destination; he bent his head to one breast with the warm wet heat of his mouth, alternating sucking and then his tongue laving at a nipple, curling playfully around it.
no subject
As his strong hands braced her, she closed her eyes gently and focused on the sensation of his coarse but warm lips against the bare skin of her breast, drawing and pulling forth a fluttering moan from her. Her hands in turn gripped his shoulders for support, gracefully holding him and feeling how much of a connection they had. There were times where it felt like she didn't have to say a word and he understood her. Other times he just helped her feel at ease, comfortable with simply existing. No need for displays of her skills, for desires or nothing elseβ
All she needed was him.
no subject
Cassian was still fully-dressed but clearly didnβt seem to mind the disparity, with an appreciative hum against her breast, his stubble scraping against her skin as he mouthed and licked at her. His hands drifted lower, settling on the curve of her ass, and gave a warm squeeze; exploring her curves, the shape of her, grinding her into his lap. Positioned as she is, she could feel the hard ridge of his erection beneath her, already hopelessly turned-on.
It had been a while since heβd let this guard down with anyone. Sex was a personal distraction from the job, the responsibility, the missions, the war, but—
maybe they could let themselves have something nice, once in a while.