[ It’s all out of her hands—literally and figuratively—and every second finds Nami deciding how that makes her feel. They aren’t close. She hasn’t had the chance to feel Dabi out as extensively as the other partners that have gotten her to yield up control and let herself be hedged against the wall. Because of that, it’s harder to quiet her racing pulse and draw a deep breath; because of that, tamping down the exhilarated heat that parades across her awareness and paints the world in a hotter, headier hue is so impossible she gives up before beginning. Muscles trembling in that deeply rooted way that has her skin lighting up under his touch, tensing and twitching as he palms her hip before stepping away, leaving marine eyes watching the shape of him as he moves across the room to rifle through a drawer here and a cabinet there.
There is that moment when instinct kicks in and best practices take the wheel after a life spent surviving under layers and layers of plans and subterfuge, where her eyes dart up and assess the knot he’s tied in the ribbon that keeps her body drawn up like a hunting trophy or a bound dancer right on the verge of showing off. She could look up and tear through this web of tension, she thinks.
All it would take was a split second to glance up at the knot he’s made and learn what she needs to know to assure herself that she can pull free at any time. But she doesn’t. That’s the point of this, isn’t it? To experience the abandonment of pragmatism; to let herself feel how sharp the edges of a thing can become when they’re honed by uncertainty. Danger hangs around him like a spicy cologne might cling to the air in wisps and waves, and right now, Nami will follow this lead where it goes.
It means when he turns back to her, toy in hand, the way her eyes widen at the sight of the basic but no less intriguing vibrator is genuine, and the suspense that makes her forget to breathe while she watches him settle on his knees is real. He doesn’t give her time to answer him when he speaks, the swift way he nudges her thighs to part further, robbing Nami of her ability to do much more than hold her breath, somehow finding the air in her lungs to gasp as the cool plastic of the toy traces over the outer folds of her cunt, before the sight of him wetting the vibrator with his mouth sends fresh heat roaring through her.
If he couldn’t taste her then, the slickness clinging to her flesh when Dabi’s chin lifts and his tongue licks over her is unmistakable, as is the fluttering shudder lending silting weight to every ragged breath. ]
What if it’s just because you look good like this?Â
[ Not for the first time, her wrists twist, fingers stretching and splaying against the urge to sink her fingers into his hair, as the first frissons of pleasure run up her spine and leave her eyes falling half-closed, for all appearances lost to the hot glide of his tongue were it not for how Nami shifts her weight, balancing on one leg as the other slides around his shoulders, the muscles of her inner thigh quivering as the juxtapositions of his skin against her own makes her gasp again. ]
covers the date on this tag up
There is that moment when instinct kicks in and best practices take the wheel after a life spent surviving under layers and layers of plans and subterfuge, where her eyes dart up and assess the knot he’s tied in the ribbon that keeps her body drawn up like a hunting trophy or a bound dancer right on the verge of showing off. She could look up and tear through this web of tension, she thinks.
All it would take was a split second to glance up at the knot he’s made and learn what she needs to know to assure herself that she can pull free at any time. But she doesn’t. That’s the point of this, isn’t it? To experience the abandonment of pragmatism; to let herself feel how sharp the edges of a thing can become when they’re honed by uncertainty. Danger hangs around him like a spicy cologne might cling to the air in wisps and waves, and right now, Nami will follow this lead where it goes.
It means when he turns back to her, toy in hand, the way her eyes widen at the sight of the basic but no less intriguing vibrator is genuine, and the suspense that makes her forget to breathe while she watches him settle on his knees is real. He doesn’t give her time to answer him when he speaks, the swift way he nudges her thighs to part further, robbing Nami of her ability to do much more than hold her breath, somehow finding the air in her lungs to gasp as the cool plastic of the toy traces over the outer folds of her cunt, before the sight of him wetting the vibrator with his mouth sends fresh heat roaring through her.
If he couldn’t taste her then, the slickness clinging to her flesh when Dabi’s chin lifts and his tongue licks over her is unmistakable, as is the fluttering shudder lending silting weight to every ragged breath. ]
What if it’s just because you look good like this?Â
[ Not for the first time, her wrists twist, fingers stretching and splaying against the urge to sink her fingers into his hair, as the first frissons of pleasure run up her spine and leave her eyes falling half-closed, for all appearances lost to the hot glide of his tongue were it not for how Nami shifts her weight, balancing on one leg as the other slides around his shoulders, the muscles of her inner thigh quivering as the juxtapositions of his skin against her own makes her gasp again. ]