(He's not actively trying to make her smile at this time, which is why she stops opposing it for now, allows him to feel the curve of a grin against his lips, because if there is one thing Quentin is, that's evidently consistent, even here. She knew what she was getting into, didn't she? Finally, the push and pull they keep engaging in does something for her. Apparently, she likes the bickering here, too, because who has ever had the nerve?
No way she doesn't feel the shudder herself, a little smirk of satisfaction on her lips once he distances.)
It deliberately wasn't.
(But she'll be a sport, climb onto his lap as she was nudged, hands on his shoulders for support and... Well, perhaps he doesn't even need to look into her brain much further, because the hands on her waist having her grind activate several small fireworks in her neural pathways.
And because that's where her brain is, that's what he will get. The lust she feels with having her waist grabbed, her ass squeezed, body pulled and held, kisses peppered on her chest, desire so hard to manage that it overrides good reason.
God, she fucking loves telepathy, the groan he gives synched with her dulcet moan as every hair on her body stand with the goosebumps that it brings.)
/Well, you asked./
(Not illusioning perse, she's still very much here, but she's sending him sensory bits of how good she finds to have hands gripping on her hips, bringing her closer with each thrust, the way her lungs beg for some air and she doesn't even care with free-flowing pleasure, heightened and undiluted.)
no subject
No way she doesn't feel the shudder herself, a little smirk of satisfaction on her lips once he distances.)
It deliberately wasn't.
(But she'll be a sport, climb onto his lap as she was nudged, hands on his shoulders for support and... Well, perhaps he doesn't even need to look into her brain much further, because the hands on her waist having her grind activate several small fireworks in her neural pathways.
And because that's where her brain is, that's what he will get. The lust she feels with having her waist grabbed, her ass squeezed, body pulled and held, kisses peppered on her chest, desire so hard to manage that it overrides good reason.
God, she fucking loves telepathy, the groan he gives synched with her dulcet moan as every hair on her body stand with the goosebumps that it brings.)
/Well, you asked./
(Not illusioning perse, she's still very much here, but she's sending him sensory bits of how good she finds to have hands gripping on her hips, bringing her closer with each thrust, the way her lungs beg for some air and she doesn't even care with free-flowing pleasure, heightened and undiluted.)