His eyes are roving over her, soaking in the movement of her body -- but when he's had his fill of that and lets his head fall back, he realizes she's been watching him, and the look in her eyes when they meet his makes his mouth go dry. It's intense, even for someone as intense as Jesse himself is, even for someone who loves as hard as he does.
"Annie," he breathes, the one hand tightening on her hair, the other sliding up to cup her face and pull her down into a quick but fervent, messy kiss.
And then, thank Christ, she asks him that. "God, yes," he groans, eyes falling briefly shut. "Jesus, Annie, please--"
Some day, she decides, she's going to ride him hard and make it last an hour. Two hours. Until they're both helpless and desperate and so absorbed in need they forget their own names and their pasts.
But that's not today. Today she sits up, taking full control of the pace, and she does her absolute best to show him what wolf stamina and lust and love can do; what her supernaturally heightened muscles can do with her already athletic body. What this body can do to his in every rise and sink, every roll of her hips.
She claps a hand over her mouth, hearing her own whimpers muffled but unmistakable.
That's something they should save for later: when they know each other's bodies better, maybe when Jesse has... acclimatized a little bit more. He's still coming off a year-plus dry spell for, like, regular human sex, and this is way more than that. He'd never last an hour today; he's almost amazed he's lasted this long at all, as powerful and consuming as this is.
"Fuck," he chokes, and then he finds himself out of further words as she takes over, and all he can do is try to move with her and try to hang on. With her hair out of reach he grabs onto her thighs, kneading as he rapidly approaches the edge-- and then digging his fingers in tight, tight, as he falls over it with a jerk and a loud, unhindered cry.
The last sex Annie had wasn't good sex. It wasn't awful, but it was one last attempt to bring some light into Palo's eyes, and it had failed.
Werewolves have ravenous libidos, but until Jesse, she hadn't longed for someone in a very, very long time. When her head starts to clear, she has her face tucked against his neck, and she breathes a laugh of relief.
"Oh, now I remember: I do love sex." A pause, an amendment: "Really good sex."
He's still panting and blinking the stars from his eyes, but the words filter through on only a very slight delay, and when they register he lets out a short, breathless laugh.
"Really good," he agrees, rolling them onto their sides so she can't hide her face; so he can look at her, can press lazy, languid kisses to her mouth again and again, like he's still making up for all the times he could have and didn't.
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"Annie," he breathes, the one hand tightening on her hair, the other sliding up to cup her face and pull her down into a quick but fervent, messy kiss.
And then, thank Christ, she asks him that. "God, yes," he groans, eyes falling briefly shut. "Jesus, Annie, please--"
no subject
But that's not today. Today she sits up, taking full control of the pace, and she does her absolute best to show him what wolf stamina and lust and love can do; what her supernaturally heightened muscles can do with her already athletic body. What this body can do to his in every rise and sink, every roll of her hips.
She claps a hand over her mouth, hearing her own whimpers muffled but unmistakable.
no subject
"Fuck," he chokes, and then he finds himself out of further words as she takes over, and all he can do is try to move with her and try to hang on. With her hair out of reach he grabs onto her thighs, kneading as he rapidly approaches the edge-- and then digging his fingers in tight, tight, as he falls over it with a jerk and a loud, unhindered cry.
no subject
Werewolves have ravenous libidos, but until Jesse, she hadn't longed for someone in a very, very long time. When her head starts to clear, she has her face tucked against his neck, and she breathes a laugh of relief.
"Oh, now I remember: I do love sex." A pause, an amendment: "Really good sex."
no subject
"Really good," he agrees, rolling them onto their sides so she can't hide her face; so he can look at her, can press lazy, languid kisses to her mouth again and again, like he's still making up for all the times he could have and didn't.