She can barely speak, but as much as Magni had given her, she must give her in return, let her know that it was what she wanted, but she must be able to tell, if not from that croak in her voice. How it turns low,low,low. Adjusting her weight, trusting in Magni's hold on her, she moves her arms as prompted.
Shifting it slightly, all the same. The arm still on her sliding around Magni's neck, bracing around her shoulders. The other returning to grip her forearm, holding her self just that little up that Magni could reach between their bodies easily. Some fitful notion that she had meant to be washing her, touching her, first. That, however, would mean stopping, telling her to let her go, not touch her.
Speech and orders are reserved for those that can make them, and her thoughts and words are neither eloquent nor able to form to her lips. Nerves being scraped against, hips moving as she moves back down, sinking back down. Figure out how it feels, is meant to feel. Magni's broad, working hands are soft for the steam and hot water, clean, and in a way she realises has nothing to do with water, it feels so easy for her to do. With it, her eyes close, settling back, trusting in her, this, that Magni would not push her more than she can stand. A puff of hot air as she exhales, breathing deeply but too fast. "It feels - "
And she realises, she doesn't know how to say how it feels. She feels tight, and hot, gripping in some immeasurable way that when the flutter in her belly pulls in, she can feel it in an altogether different way that makes it clear it isn't enough. That she wants to move in a way that feels completely reckless, demanding, taking and isn't becoming to either of them.
So she does, tilting forward, in the realisation that she has not kissed her. But it isn't the soft exchanges of longing that had filled their recent weeks. It demands as she slants her mouth across Magni's lips. Her own full, half wind-bitten by her first truly harsh winter here, and with it she presses her tongue against her mouth, presses their bodies close and kisses her like she demands more because she is.
And when she pulls back, she's panting earnestly. Her hips are twitching expectantly, looking for more contact, unthinkingly but unerringly. " - like that."
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She can barely speak, but as much as Magni had given her, she must give her in return, let her know that it was what she wanted, but she must be able to tell, if not from that croak in her voice. How it turns low,low,low. Adjusting her weight, trusting in Magni's hold on her, she moves her arms as prompted.
Shifting it slightly, all the same. The arm still on her sliding around Magni's neck, bracing around her shoulders. The other returning to grip her forearm, holding her self just that little up that Magni could reach between their bodies easily. Some fitful notion that she had meant to be washing her, touching her, first. That, however, would mean stopping, telling her to let her go, not touch her.
Speech and orders are reserved for those that can make them, and her thoughts and words are neither eloquent nor able to form to her lips. Nerves being scraped against, hips moving as she moves back down, sinking back down. Figure out how it feels, is meant to feel. Magni's broad, working hands are soft for the steam and hot water, clean, and in a way she realises has nothing to do with water, it feels so easy for her to do. With it, her eyes close, settling back, trusting in her, this, that Magni would not push her more than she can stand. A puff of hot air as she exhales, breathing deeply but too fast. "It feels - "
And she realises, she doesn't know how to say how it feels. She feels tight, and hot, gripping in some immeasurable way that when the flutter in her belly pulls in, she can feel it in an altogether different way that makes it clear it isn't enough. That she wants to move in a way that feels completely reckless, demanding, taking and isn't becoming to either of them.
So she does, tilting forward, in the realisation that she has not kissed her. But it isn't the soft exchanges of longing that had filled their recent weeks. It demands as she slants her mouth across Magni's lips. Her own full, half wind-bitten by her first truly harsh winter here, and with it she presses her tongue against her mouth, presses their bodies close and kisses her like she demands more because she is.
And when she pulls back, she's panting earnestly. Her hips are twitching expectantly, looking for more contact, unthinkingly but unerringly. " - like that."