"Natural talent," mutters Arthur, his face tomato red. With any luck, he can roll with the embarrassment. Crichton's hand finding his own makes that easier. This, uh, this was never going to be a terribly dignified operation.
It's a strange thing, though. When he and Bella had sex, it always felt like something he was pushing himself toward: enjoying some moments, but mostly, whenever they slowed down, hoping vaguely that they'd stop. With Crichton, though, he feels pulled back in as if magnetised. Lots to unpack there, probably, but he's not wasting time doing that right now.
Arthur licks his lips involuntarily. Jesus, he can taste Crichton on them, and it's making him want to try again. His hand goes back to Crichton's hip, stroking up the slight rise of the bone, then into the hair that crowns the spot between his legs, moving down.
"But you're hardly innocent of being sexy," he murmurs, fascinated. "If I didn't know your stance on them, I'd almost think you had cast a spell on me."
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It's a strange thing, though. When he and Bella had sex, it always felt like something he was pushing himself toward: enjoying some moments, but mostly, whenever they slowed down, hoping vaguely that they'd stop. With Crichton, though, he feels pulled back in as if magnetised. Lots to unpack there, probably, but he's not wasting time doing that right now.
Arthur licks his lips involuntarily. Jesus, he can taste Crichton on them, and it's making him want to try again. His hand goes back to Crichton's hip, stroking up the slight rise of the bone, then into the hair that crowns the spot between his legs, moving down.
"But you're hardly innocent of being sexy," he murmurs, fascinated. "If I didn't know your stance on them, I'd almost think you had cast a spell on me."