[ Hana has to spare a moment to wonder what the soundproofing is like in a space castle-slash-ship that's tens of thousands of years old yet still far and beyond more technologically (and, probably, architecturally) advanced than anything that exists on Earth.
Because she is not sparing a moment to hold herself back in reacting to each and every move of Shiro's, whether it's his tongue or lips or hands on her. And she cries out his name, desperately, not knowing what she really wants only that she needs him to keep going, ]
Takashi--
[ and she's melting, or she feels like she is, hot water all over her body and his and still she feels the most wet between her legs and once more she's helpless against him. Because everything he does feels so damn good; even his breath on her leaves heat and want in its wake but it's the way he's so thorough that has her writhing and moaning and pulling at his hair. Her free hand goes up to her mouth and she presses the back of it against her parted lips as though it'll keep her noises down (It doesn't.) but it's the only way she feels like she can hold on to some semblance of sanity because the feeling of his tongue inside of her, along the outside, on her clit, the way he sucks on it, and then the brief bite of sweet pain at the way he leaves a mark on her-- now one of many across her body-- before he's back to her clit and then slipping his warm, warm fingers inside--
It's almost too much.
Almost, because while her legs start to give out from under her, shaking and quaking with pleasure, she manages to catch herself from falling by holding onto something, anything nearby with the hand she'd been covering her mouth with, whether it's a towel bar or a shelf or the door, she doesn't care. ]
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Because she is not sparing a moment to hold herself back in reacting to each and every move of Shiro's, whether it's his tongue or lips or hands on her. And she cries out his name, desperately, not knowing what she really wants only that she needs him to keep going, ]
Takashi--
[ and she's melting, or she feels like she is, hot water all over her body and his and still she feels the most wet between her legs and once more she's helpless against him. Because everything he does feels so damn good; even his breath on her leaves heat and want in its wake but it's the way he's so thorough that has her writhing and moaning and pulling at his hair. Her free hand goes up to her mouth and she presses the back of it against her parted lips as though it'll keep her noises down (It doesn't.) but it's the only way she feels like she can hold on to some semblance of sanity because the feeling of his tongue inside of her, along the outside, on her clit, the way he sucks on it, and then the brief bite of sweet pain at the way he leaves a mark on her-- now one of many across her body-- before he's back to her clit and then slipping his warm, warm fingers inside--
It's almost too much.
Almost, because while her legs start to give out from under her, shaking and quaking with pleasure, she manages to catch herself from falling by holding onto something, anything nearby with the hand she'd been covering her mouth with, whether it's a towel bar or a shelf or the door, she doesn't care. ]