Romance squawks at the manhandling and the indecency of the slap to his ass, you absolute heathen.
The claw down his spine, though - that has him distracted, a shiver rippling through his body, goose flesh pricking this skin. His hands lay flat on Abby’s chest, the lightest prick of claws pressing against him as he adjusts, straddling him properly, thighs hugging his sides.
He’s still in desperate need of a shower; he’s absolutely filthy, his hair is a mess and he’s entirely disheveled. It’s making him a little anxious - he doesn’t let people see him this raw. He’s very particular about his appearance, about how he chooses to present himself, and after waking up looking like a poodle after a bad spa day, he’s a little self-conscious.
And yet… Abby doesn’t care. And that’s either because there is truly something developing here or he’s just a brute with a high libido. Either way, he’s not looking at Romance in disgust. He wants Romance just as he is, still a little sleepy, warm from where he’d been under blankets, hair tangled, no longer perfectly styled.
Slowly, his claws drag down Abby’s chest. Not hard, just the lightest touch, almost ticklish.
They trace lower, drifting over Abby’s stomach, and curling against his hips. Romance shifts forward, slowly rolling his hips down to feel the heat of him between high thighs. It makes him shiver again, teeth coming down on his lower lip. ]
no subject
Romance squawks at the manhandling and the indecency of the slap to his ass, you absolute heathen.
The claw down his spine, though - that has him distracted, a shiver rippling through his body, goose flesh pricking this skin. His hands lay flat on Abby’s chest, the lightest prick of claws pressing against him as he adjusts, straddling him properly, thighs hugging his sides.
He’s still in desperate need of a shower; he’s absolutely filthy, his hair is a mess and he’s entirely disheveled. It’s making him a little anxious - he doesn’t let people see him this raw. He’s very particular about his appearance, about how he chooses to present himself, and after waking up looking like a poodle after a bad spa day, he’s a little self-conscious.
And yet… Abby doesn’t care. And that’s either because there is truly something developing here or he’s just a brute with a high libido. Either way, he’s not looking at Romance in disgust. He wants Romance just as he is, still a little sleepy, warm from where he’d been under blankets, hair tangled, no longer perfectly styled.
Slowly, his claws drag down Abby’s chest. Not hard, just the lightest touch, almost ticklish.
They trace lower, drifting over Abby’s stomach, and curling against his hips. Romance shifts forward, slowly rolling his hips down to feel the heat of him between high thighs. It makes him shiver again, teeth coming down on his lower lip. ]