Date: 2009-03-02 01:35 am (UTC)
A part of her mind knew exactly what he was doing. And why. And why eventually they would have to deal with that accident.

But even that impartial part did not begrudge the pleasure now. At all. Even as body and soul, she responded to his touches, his kisses, the way his eyes took her in. Her body arched slightly up to him at that kiss, breath coming out fast and warm between her parted lips.

//Too long.// Her voice was lower, deeper, huskier, and her fingers combed into his hair, her other hand sliding down in turn over the curve of his shoulder. Down his shoulder-blade. //Too long, husband-mine. An you feel recovered enough, that can be remedied, and with great joy.//

Fingers returned up his shoulder, the side of his neck, and she ran her other hand's thumb over the edge of his ear, fingernail lightly running over the earlobe.

Great joy. As always, each time. Merely looking up into his eyes, onto his face, immortal, perfect and imperfect, she was ready to give the best of pleasure she was capable of.
And he knew she was capable of.
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Ellen Maharet Anscombe

February 2012

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