For half a moment she looks confused, but then she laughs, charmed that he's playing along so soon. She wiggles so that she's flush against his thigh, pleased.
A surprise for them both, really. She has no idea what type of character this stranger will meet. At least she has a day to think of something that isn't terribly dull or off putting.
Jill huffs out a little groan, hand dropping to playfully pinch his side. There's more to grab there these days.
"You're going to get me worked up again," she warns, as if he doesn't know. "You fiend."
She laughs under her breath. She can't be too sore for tomorrow. A different person she may be, for their fun, but the body remains one and the same.
"I do enjoy gentle," Jill reminds him, tipping her face up to kiss him softly. She doesn't always need to be railed into oblivion. "And gentle is your nature."
Maybe it’s the time of night or all-consuming desire to please her, but the reminder feels like a surprise. Oh, yes. There’s that too. He kisses her, lazily sinking into it, his expression softening.
“Gentle it is, then,” he says, a hand roving to palm a breast.
She hums at his touch, fingers tracing over his cheekbone and up into his hair. He really is the closest thing to perfection. Sometimes she can't believe he's chosen her, even now.
"I like making love with you." If she sounds a little dazed, she's only just happy.
Nose to nose with her, it's easy to sink into the softness of her gaze and remind himself that he once walked away from the chance to ever do this again. Her skin is bed-warm, her touch is gentle, and she is the most beautiful being to ever walk any earth. He is scared to hurt her. He is also scared that he ever thought he could live without this.
"I love making love with you," he replies, and his hand runs down her side, reverently.
"Happily ever after," he agrees, and he rolls her under him, just enough weight on his elbow to press her into the mattress with the length of his body. He looks down at her, damp hair hanging in his face. "This is all real."
"Complaint? That was no complaint. Only stating a fact. I have no complaints about you, my love," she says. "Just as I know you have no complaints about any cold feet finding you in the middle of the night."
"I've felt you press closer on winter nights, and your reluctance to draw away in the summer," he murmurs. Fewer nights than there ought to have been, but enough to see the trajectory of their future unspooling ahead of them like yarn.
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"Tomorrow? If you're not busy."
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"Not to meet me," she teases back.
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Jill huffs out a little groan, hand dropping to playfully pinch his side. There's more to grab there these days.
"You're going to get me worked up again," she warns, as if he doesn't know. "You fiend."
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“Are you tired?”
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"I think I could have you a dozen times every night and never tire of it."
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He’s steadily getting hard again, with her grinding on him.
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"I do enjoy gentle," Jill reminds him, tipping her face up to kiss him softly. She doesn't always need to be railed into oblivion. "And gentle is your nature."
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“Gentle it is, then,” he says, a hand roving to palm a breast.
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"I like making love with you." If she sounds a little dazed, she's only just happy.
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"I love making love with you," he replies, and his hand runs down her side, reverently.
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"I love doing anything with you." So there. Watching Star Trek, maintaining their home, or simply curling up together. She couldn't ask for more.
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"And you get to," he whispers, with another kiss before he continues: "Forever, and always, for the rest of our lives."
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"Nights like these with you are all I ever dreamed of."
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"Good. I look forward to every day with you. Even if you do sometimes come home reeking of monster intestines and rub it on me."
Torgal does it too.
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"Is there much to complain about when you can then coax me into the shower?"
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"They only feel so cold because you run as hot as flame."
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Nearly. She tries to endure, even if she ends up with her hair plastered to her skin from sweat.
"I prefer winter," she says, and kisses him. "I've forgotten what cold feels like."
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