[ That look is one she actually treasures, that makes her heart feel lighter than ever, that impish smile of his appealing in ways she cannot express. However, she is reeling too much to truly dwell on it today, not when he's moving her clothes when before, only she could really do that.
Gasping his name softly when his lips kiss skin that has not been touched since well before her death, her eyes flutter, struggling to stay on him, to watch his face. She wants to ask him how he's doing it, how he knew he could, or if it was possible this whole time. But for the first time since... ever, Annie Sawyer is quiet. Bewildered but silent.]
[Mitchell has a perpetual five-o-clock shadow because he can't see his own reflection and therefore finds shaving virtually impossible, and he makes good use of that stubble at the moment, nuzzling his cheek against the curve of Annie's breast as he carefully winkles her clothes out of the way.
The tank is proving difficult at the moment, sticking down around his waist no matter how he plucks at it, so eventually he clears his throat.] C'mon, love, work with me here.
[He doesn't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but surely having her participation would only make it easier to have this whole endeavor work.]
What am I meant to do? It's not as though I can just poof my clothes-- [ She sounds indignant and frustrated before she stops and looks down at him for a moment, a sudden look of determination crosses over her face.] Away. [ Her brow furrows for a moment and then poof the grey sweater she's always wearing disappears without a trace, making Annie start. She shifts, almost sitting up beneath Mitchell in surprise--] How... I didn't know... [ Mitchell, you'll need to jump-start her brain again, remind her she's still got a lot more clothes on.]
[He's about to come up with some sort of soothing platitude to calm her down when she apparently does just "poof" her clothes away, and he's left hovering over her without the grey sweater anywhere in sight.
He can't help but laugh, grinning at her and leaning in to press a peck to her lips.] That's my girl. Try it again, yeah? Let's do something about this top of yours.
[ The revelation is one she can't quite fathom. She had, in the past, been able to change the style of her clothes some, although it was always so many layers and never had she ever even considered trying to remove them (why would she need to?).
His kiss helps heal her brain-breakage, her eyes fluttering before she looks at him, feeling both giddy and suddenly nervous, which only makes the grey sweater slowly start to fade back on her body. She could be naked. With Mitchell. Mitchell could see her naked. Would he like what he saw? What if he didn't? Maybe she should just pretend that she can't get naked? Maybe she can't, actually. It wasn't that she lacked confidence per say, only that this was quite a big deal. This is Mitchell, this is the man she loves. Yes, loves. And he's probably had all lots of lovely ladies, super models... How would she compare?
And yes, all this OVERthinking is happening and she is mentally fussing but completely still/quiet/distracted on the outside.]
Annie... [He's not trying to sound menacing of anything, but he can see her start to panic, can see the cogs whirring behind her eyes as she suddenly overthinks this moment. He can even see her sweater slowly start to materialize back on her body, and that's the last thing he wants.
Shushing her again, he kisses her gently, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth and the sweep of her cheekbone, his hand smoothing her thick curls away from her face as he cradles her in his arms.]
If you don't want to, that's okay. [He's pretty sure she does, but he wants to reassure her nonetheless.] I can wait until you're ready. We have all the time in the world for this. Literally.
[ The kisses stop the sweater's progressive return, making it fade away once again as she relaxes a little more, her eyes falling shut for a blissful moment, her thoughts quieted.
When he speaks again, her eyes open to look at him, her head shaking.] No, no... I want to. Oh do I want to. [ She sets her lips into a line as she nods once, getting that look of determination that only Annie gets. One he should know all too well.] I'm ready. I want this. [ And to prove it, she moves to kiss him again, properly. And if he gets into it with her, once she gets a little lost in that kiss, her tank top will fade away just like her sweater.]
[That little look she gets, when her mouth thins and her brows furrow, is so painfully endearing Mitchell can't help but smile in the face of it, and, of course, capitulate far too quickly to her. He's always had a problem with saying no to Annie, and it's certainly not been any easier now that he went and plucked her from Purgatory and brought her back home.
Kissing her is something he is more than happy to indulge in; no matter what she might think, Mitchell likes how cool she is to the touch. She's not cold, no, it's not like snogging a block of ice, but she's...well, it's like he said all that time ago. It's a bit like kissing someone who's just come in from the cold. He likes the tingle of it. It's something that makes her uniquely Annie.
He's so distracted by her kiss that it takes him a moment to realize his hand is pressed against smooth, cool skin now, instead of the thin ribbed cotton of her tank. Smiling, he pulls away just enough to whisper against her lips.] Annie, love. You did it.
[ For all her insecurities and inexperience, she finds confidence in the smiles he gives her, in the enthusiasm in which he kisses her. She knows it must be different, kissing her, he's said as much in the past, but it is different for her too. It's a warm sort of numbing that she feels, as though she is kissing someone through a very thin sheet. And after hours of kissing him endlessly, she thinks she's forgotten what it used to feel like, before.
Well, she finds she prefers kissing Mitchell more than she ever did with he-who-shall-not-be-named. Especially when he pulls back to whisper like he does, giving her a shiver before she even realizes what he's said.
She glances down, her eyebrows perking up before she lets out a breath, looking up at him. He hasn't looked down yet, himself, she feels her nerves bubble for a moment before she controls them too.] I did it. [ She sounds excited as she plants a kiss to his lips.] I did it! [ And another kiss, excitedly.]
[His smile widens into a grin and he finds himself laughing quietly, the hand he had placed at her waist sliding up to stroke along her ribs.] You did it! Clever girl, you. [He trails some more kisses along the line of her jaw, nuzzling her, quietly affectionate in a way he hasn't felt in a very long time, certainly not whilst naked in bed with a pretty girl.
He's afraid if they get too far the bloodlust will come over him again, even though Annie has no blood, no heartbeat to tempt him. It terrifies him, the fact that he might drop fangs and bite her, hurt her, even though he doesn't want to.
But if this is what Annie wants, he's going to do his best to give it to her. He'd give her the moon if he could.]
[ Annie isn't as concerned with the bloodlust as perhaps she should be, she doesn't think of how it may hurt her or even him to experience it. No, she's very much focused on his praise and the way his mouth wanders along her jaw.
Her hands don't remain idle now, they move to slide down his chest, fingers sliding over the dusting of hair there. She'd gotten his shirt off, at least, otherwise all she'd done to get him undressed beyond taking his shirt off for her failure of a blowjob was unfasten and yank down his pants some.
She wants to make him feel good too, her other hand sliding down his side, nails trying to drag along his skin.]
[She does make him feel good. Just having her here makes him feel good, far better than he ever really thought he could feel again. There's been an empty part in his soul for so long that Mitchell has almost forgotten it was there, a part he's tried to fill with blood, with other vampires, with girls like Josie, all to no avail. It's clichéd in the extreme to think that they were made for each other but perhaps they were.
A vampire in love with a girl with no blood? That's poetic, at the very least.
Her nails dragging along his side have goosebumps cropping up along his skin, the chill coupled with the gentle bite of her nails making him need to fight down a shiver. And it would seem that while just yanking his trousers down isn't enough to get him really going — he'd need to be pumped full of fresh blood for that, gorged on that sweet nectar drained from some hapless soul — this slow exploration is doing its trick, for he can feel his cock twitch slightly against his thigh, swelling curiously.]
[ Annie's new found abilities only boost her confidence, her happiness, which in turn makes her even stronger, makes her feel even more solid beneath Mitchell, as if she is almost alive again.
She isn't thinking of what effect she may be having on his body, not after completely failing at getting him aroused. She's a little too lost in the way it feels to have his hand sliding along her own skin. Owen never touched her so sweetly, with such reverence. She sighs Mitchell's name with such contentment.] This is nice. It's nice, right?
[One of the benefits of having the rest of eternity to spend together, not to mention a century of this already under his belt, is that Mitchell is king at taking his time. He'll be perfectly happy to stay here, just touching her, for the rest of the night, his own need for sleep be damned. However, he's fairly certain Annie would protest if he tried, so he's going to restrain the impulse and instead hum in response to her question, nibbling at the curve of her shoulder.]
It's nice. [Gingerly, like he's not sure if he's allowed, he slides his fingertips beneath the strap of her plain white bra, winkling it down over the cap of her shoulder and struggling to hold back the shuddering breath that escapes when the elastic moves with him.] It's more than nice. [He's undressed countless girls before. But this is Annie, whose clothes are as integral a part of her being as she is herself, part of her corporeal self, and even if she's doing it consciously, she's letting him take them off of her.]
[ He may have the patience of a century but Annie has never been patient. If she takes too much time to do things, she over thinks them, gets worked up (and not the sort of worked up he'd want her to be). Maybe after the first time, she'd be able to have a little patience, as it is, right now, she is feeling restless as can be.
Shivering a bit when he nibbles at her shoulder, she decides that feels very nice, another thing Owen never did. Made her feel very nice.
And Mitchell seems to agree, about it all being very nice, even if it was actually quite naughty, the thought making her cheeks flush again, distracted enough that as his fingers slide it, her bra strap moves with him. Because that's what she expects it to do, that what it would do were she normal.
Her eyes dart to his face when he lets out such a breath, noticing the way her bra moves with his touch, a soft smile parting her lips. It's working, without her having to think it through so thoroughly, although she is care not to think of the strap back in place where it ought to be.
Still, she looks at him--] Should I... [ Take it off like the others? Even if she sort of preferred to have him do it. Again, Owen made her undress herself whenever they shagged. It wasn't sensual like this was turning out to be.]
[That day in the kitchen, when he'd been blood-drunk, high in a way he hadn't been in years — blood is so very much like heroin; once you go clean, if you fall off the wagon again and take what you still believe is your normal dose, you go right off the rails — and he'd told her how he thought about her body, he hadn't been lying. He wouldn't have told her that way if he had been able to choose, obviously, but Annie is a fit girl, and she's been a part of his life for long enough for him to have even the most idle of fantasies about her.
They haven't been idle for a long time, actually.
He slides the straps down off her shoulders and follows their path with his mouth, pressing hot — well, they'd be hot to her — open-mouthed kisses to her skin, sucking gently as he peels her bra lower and lower. Only when it's barely keeping her breasts still covered does he look up, raising his head to peer up at her with dark eyes, silently requesting permission.]
[ She remembers that day, although it isn't a fond one, she'd much rather hear him say it now. As it is, his insistence on doing this himself is enough confirmation that he desires her, that he's enjoying this. She moves to help him when he needs it, sliding her arms from the straps, barely moving otherwise, encouraging those hot kisses to her skin, making her shiver.
Suddenly the breath in her lungs halts, which is ridiculous considering she doesn't need to actually breathe, but there it is. She feels dizzy with the anticipation of it, her eyes meeting with his as he makes his wordless request. Nodding breathlessly, she feels a rush of heat she hasn't felt in a long time, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip, it takes all she has not to feel shy (that'll bring all her clothes back in an instant).]
[He gets the confirmation he'd been looking for with the shy little nod of her head, and he nods a little too, stupidly, unable to keep from smiling as he ducks his head to press a kiss to her sternum, right between her breasts as he gently tucks his fingers into the cups of her bra and peels them downwards. He's not sure if he tries to undo the clasp if that will work at all, but apparently he can move her clothes as long as they remain on her body, and so that's what he's going to do.
Her nipples are darker than he'd been imagining, and there's a little mole just along the swell of her left breast that's begging for his attention, attention he is quite happy to give it. He kisses it, lightly at first, nuzzles it, rubs his cheek along it as his mouth moves to find more of her skin to kiss.] Alright, love?
[ While he may be content with just pulling the bra downward, she suddenly imagines it gone and then, well, it's gone. She lets out an amused huff of air at that even if she's feeling a little overwhelmed at being so exposed to him for the first time. It feels intense, the whole thing, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, somehow (and ridiculously so) unsure of what his reaction would be to seeing her topless.
That mole, she's always felt self-conscious about it. Girls in primary used to tease her, call it her third nipple even if it was rather small. And Mitchell goes to kiss it first. Her eyes flutter at the contact after so, so long with anything other than the brush of that damned bra and her clothing. She looks at him then, when he speaks.] Yes? And you?
[He chuckles quietly, the hand he'd been using to hold her bra out of the way flattening against her side instead.] That's quite handy.
[It's a sweet little mole, and Mitchell rather likes kissing it, so all those girls in school can go shut the hell up, as far as he's concerned.
He glances up at her again when she speaks to him, his eyebrows lifting incredulously, like she's asked him a stupid question.] Annie. [A pause for a moment, so he can duck down and lick her nipple teasingly.] I'm happier than a pig in shit. [Definitely not the most romantic thing to say, but he wants to make her laugh and maybe smack him on the shoulder, wants to banish this shy, timid specter of the girl he loves and bring back the Annie he knows so well.]
Mitchell--[ He gets what he wants, her laughter, a smack to his shoulder as she shifts beneath him. Her smile doesn't fade as she relaxes a bit more, feeling a bit more confident with every passing moment, her skin still tingling from the swipe of his tongue at her nipple.] I'm sorry, sorry. I know I'm utterly being ridiculous. [ She can be that, she knows. And she admits it now.] I just never thought... [ Her hand lifts to brush the hair from his forehead.] That'd you ever get to see me...[ Her hand waves over her half naked form] in all my glory. [ Even if she had him, more than a few times (sorry for spying in the shower). She gives him a smile before she says in a sort of silly and official voice, waving her hand--]
[Oh, he loves listening to her laugh. Poor Annie has had to live through so much since her death, and he feels like he's been there for every disappointment, powerless to help, so it feels especially wonderful to be here for a high point.] Don't apologize. [He shifts, bracing himself on his elbows so that he can dip forward and kiss her again, stifling the words that try to spill from her lips.]
You are glorious. [This time he does wink at her as he goes back to what he'd been doing before, bending his dark head over her breasts and lavishing attention on cold nipples, feeling the dull ache in his gums that signifies the need to feed but miraculously being able to overcome it for now.
He's not sure how much long he'll be able to, but he wants to enjoy this moment for as long as he can.]
[ Try as she might to make it so, not everything can be hunky-dory in their lives. And Mitchell has been there during some of the lowest of the lows. But she could hardly consider this one of those times, not when they're both smiling, both closer to each other than they've ever been physically, miraculously.
Humming softly, she feels her breath hitch once again when his mouth finds the pebbled peaks of her breasts. Her fingers curl against his scalp once again, trying to just go with the moment, not to overthink things too much. She lets herself just feel, to remember what it feels like to feel turned on.
Of course, she tilts her head a little towards him, not able to just keep quiet for even a few moments (soft gasps and tiny moans don't count).] I want to do something... [ Her hand slides down his side, sliding over his bum to give it a bit of a squeeze.] To make you feel good too.
[Now that he's grown so much more used to her touch, the chill of her hand isn't as surprising as it once had been, and so he doesn't jump at all when she slides her hand down his spine to curl over the swell of his arse, hanging out of his trousers like an idiot.
He laughs against her chest, pushing up on his elbows so there's space between them, smiling down at her with eyes that are dark with desire and not bloodlust.]
What say you we get the rest of these clothes off, then? [He can kick off his jeans and she can will off her leggings or whatever it is she does, and then they'll both be properly naked. That'll make him feel good.
[ She finds it difficult to resist the dark look in his eyes. He's always had that handsome, brooding thing about him but there's something about that look being directed at her, because of something that she said, that thrills her.
Smiling up at him, feeling permanently breathless, she nods at his suggestion, her eyes unable to help but flicker downward, glancing at the appealing way his jeans hung low on his hips, thinking that soon enough they'd be completely off. Smirking just a little, she gives him an impish look.] Shall I help you then?
[ If he'll let her, she might try to reach down and start shimmying his pants down, scooting down the bed beneath him so she can do so.]
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Gasping his name softly when his lips kiss skin that has not been touched since well before her death, her eyes flutter, struggling to stay on him, to watch his face. She wants to ask him how he's doing it, how he knew he could, or if it was possible this whole time. But for the first time since... ever, Annie Sawyer is quiet. Bewildered but silent.]
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The tank is proving difficult at the moment, sticking down around his waist no matter how he plucks at it, so eventually he clears his throat.] C'mon, love, work with me here.
[He doesn't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but surely having her participation would only make it easier to have this whole endeavor work.]
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He can't help but laugh, grinning at her and leaning in to press a peck to her lips.] That's my girl. Try it again, yeah? Let's do something about this top of yours.
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His kiss helps heal her brain-breakage, her eyes fluttering before she looks at him, feeling both giddy and suddenly nervous, which only makes the grey sweater slowly start to fade back on her body. She could be naked. With Mitchell. Mitchell could see her naked. Would he like what he saw? What if he didn't? Maybe she should just pretend that she can't get naked? Maybe she can't, actually. It wasn't that she lacked confidence per say, only that this was quite a big deal. This is Mitchell, this is the man she loves. Yes, loves. And he's probably had all lots of lovely ladies, super models... How would she compare?
And yes, all this OVERthinking is happening and she is mentally fussing but completely still/quiet/distracted on the outside.]
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Shushing her again, he kisses her gently, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth and the sweep of her cheekbone, his hand smoothing her thick curls away from her face as he cradles her in his arms.]
If you don't want to, that's okay. [He's pretty sure she does, but he wants to reassure her nonetheless.] I can wait until you're ready. We have all the time in the world for this. Literally.
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When he speaks again, her eyes open to look at him, her head shaking.] No, no... I want to. Oh do I want to. [ She sets her lips into a line as she nods once, getting that look of determination that only Annie gets. One he should know all too well.] I'm ready. I want this. [ And to prove it, she moves to kiss him again, properly. And if he gets into it with her, once she gets a little lost in that kiss, her tank top will fade away just like her sweater.]
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Kissing her is something he is more than happy to indulge in; no matter what she might think, Mitchell likes how cool she is to the touch. She's not cold, no, it's not like snogging a block of ice, but she's...well, it's like he said all that time ago. It's a bit like kissing someone who's just come in from the cold. He likes the tingle of it. It's something that makes her uniquely Annie.
He's so distracted by her kiss that it takes him a moment to realize his hand is pressed against smooth, cool skin now, instead of the thin ribbed cotton of her tank. Smiling, he pulls away just enough to whisper against her lips.] Annie, love. You did it.
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Well, she finds she prefers kissing Mitchell more than she ever did with he-who-shall-not-be-named. Especially when he pulls back to whisper like he does, giving her a shiver before she even realizes what he's said.
She glances down, her eyebrows perking up before she lets out a breath, looking up at him. He hasn't looked down yet, himself, she feels her nerves bubble for a moment before she controls them too.] I did it. [ She sounds excited as she plants a kiss to his lips.] I did it! [ And another kiss, excitedly.]
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He's afraid if they get too far the bloodlust will come over him again, even though Annie has no blood, no heartbeat to tempt him. It terrifies him, the fact that he might drop fangs and bite her, hurt her, even though he doesn't want to.
But if this is what Annie wants, he's going to do his best to give it to her. He'd give her the moon if he could.]
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Her hands don't remain idle now, they move to slide down his chest, fingers sliding over the dusting of hair there. She'd gotten his shirt off, at least, otherwise all she'd done to get him undressed beyond taking his shirt off for her failure of a blowjob was unfasten and yank down his pants some.
She wants to make him feel good too, her other hand sliding down his side, nails trying to drag along his skin.]
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A vampire in love with a girl with no blood? That's poetic, at the very least.
Her nails dragging along his side have goosebumps cropping up along his skin, the chill coupled with the gentle bite of her nails making him need to fight down a shiver. And it would seem that while just yanking his trousers down isn't enough to get him really going — he'd need to be pumped full of fresh blood for that, gorged on that sweet nectar drained from some hapless soul — this slow exploration is doing its trick, for he can feel his cock twitch slightly against his thigh, swelling curiously.]
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She isn't thinking of what effect she may be having on his body, not after completely failing at getting him aroused. She's a little too lost in the way it feels to have his hand sliding along her own skin. Owen never touched her so sweetly, with such reverence. She sighs Mitchell's name with such contentment.] This is nice. It's nice, right?
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It's nice. [Gingerly, like he's not sure if he's allowed, he slides his fingertips beneath the strap of her plain white bra, winkling it down over the cap of her shoulder and struggling to hold back the shuddering breath that escapes when the elastic moves with him.] It's more than nice. [He's undressed countless girls before. But this is Annie, whose clothes are as integral a part of her being as she is herself, part of her corporeal self, and even if she's doing it consciously, she's letting him take them off of her.]
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Shivering a bit when he nibbles at her shoulder, she decides that feels very nice, another thing Owen never did. Made her feel very nice.
And Mitchell seems to agree, about it all being very nice, even if it was actually quite naughty, the thought making her cheeks flush again, distracted enough that as his fingers slide it, her bra strap moves with him. Because that's what she expects it to do, that what it would do were she normal.
Her eyes dart to his face when he lets out such a breath, noticing the way her bra moves with his touch, a soft smile parting her lips. It's working, without her having to think it through so thoroughly, although she is care not to think of the strap back in place where it ought to be.
Still, she looks at him--] Should I... [ Take it off like the others? Even if she sort of preferred to have him do it. Again, Owen made her undress herself whenever they shagged. It wasn't sensual like this was turning out to be.]
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[That day in the kitchen, when he'd been blood-drunk, high in a way he hadn't been in years — blood is so very much like heroin; once you go clean, if you fall off the wagon again and take what you still believe is your normal dose, you go right off the rails — and he'd told her how he thought about her body, he hadn't been lying. He wouldn't have told her that way if he had been able to choose, obviously, but Annie is a fit girl, and she's been a part of his life for long enough for him to have even the most idle of fantasies about her.
They haven't been idle for a long time, actually.
He slides the straps down off her shoulders and follows their path with his mouth, pressing hot — well, they'd be hot to her — open-mouthed kisses to her skin, sucking gently as he peels her bra lower and lower. Only when it's barely keeping her breasts still covered does he look up, raising his head to peer up at her with dark eyes, silently requesting permission.]
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Suddenly the breath in her lungs halts, which is ridiculous considering she doesn't need to actually breathe, but there it is. She feels dizzy with the anticipation of it, her eyes meeting with his as he makes his wordless request. Nodding breathlessly, she feels a rush of heat she hasn't felt in a long time, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip, it takes all she has not to feel shy (that'll bring all her clothes back in an instant).]
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Her nipples are darker than he'd been imagining, and there's a little mole just along the swell of her left breast that's begging for his attention, attention he is quite happy to give it. He kisses it, lightly at first, nuzzles it, rubs his cheek along it as his mouth moves to find more of her skin to kiss.] Alright, love?
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That mole, she's always felt self-conscious about it. Girls in primary used to tease her, call it her third nipple even if it was rather small. And Mitchell goes to kiss it first. Her eyes flutter at the contact after so, so long with anything other than the brush of that damned bra and her clothing. She looks at him then, when he speaks.] Yes? And you?
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[It's a sweet little mole, and Mitchell rather likes kissing it, so all those girls in school can go shut the hell up, as far as he's concerned.
He glances up at her again when she speaks to him, his eyebrows lifting incredulously, like she's asked him a stupid question.] Annie. [A pause for a moment, so he can duck down and lick her nipple teasingly.] I'm happier than a pig in shit. [Definitely not the most romantic thing to say, but he wants to make her laugh and maybe smack him on the shoulder, wants to banish this shy, timid specter of the girl he loves and bring back the Annie he knows so well.]
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Carry on.
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You are glorious. [This time he does wink at her as he goes back to what he'd been doing before, bending his dark head over her breasts and lavishing attention on cold nipples, feeling the dull ache in his gums that signifies the need to feed but miraculously being able to overcome it for now.
He's not sure how much long he'll be able to, but he wants to enjoy this moment for as long as he can.]
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Humming softly, she feels her breath hitch once again when his mouth finds the pebbled peaks of her breasts. Her fingers curl against his scalp once again, trying to just go with the moment, not to overthink things too much. She lets herself just feel, to remember what it feels like to feel turned on.
Of course, she tilts her head a little towards him, not able to just keep quiet for even a few moments (soft gasps and tiny moans don't count).] I want to do something... [ Her hand slides down his side, sliding over his bum to give it a bit of a squeeze.] To make you feel good too.
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He laughs against her chest, pushing up on his elbows so there's space between them, smiling down at her with eyes that are dark with desire and not bloodlust.]
What say you we get the rest of these clothes off, then? [He can kick off his jeans and she can will off her leggings or whatever it is she does, and then they'll both be properly naked. That'll make him feel good.
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Smiling up at him, feeling permanently breathless, she nods at his suggestion, her eyes unable to help but flicker downward, glancing at the appealing way his jeans hung low on his hips, thinking that soon enough they'd be completely off. Smirking just a little, she gives him an impish look.] Shall I help you then?
[ If he'll let her, she might try to reach down and start shimmying his pants down, scooting down the bed beneath him so she can do so.]
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