The touch of his finger against her skin warms her. His thumb on her lips is enough to thrill her. His mouth over hers, lips soft and gentle, warm and wet, as his tongue flicks out to taste her...Pippa goes quite weak in the knees (and everywhere else for that matter) and presses her good hand against his chest, fingers curling into dark blue fabric.
She has to remind herself more than once to return his affection as she gets lost in the heady sensations he's stirring in her. She's surrounded by him, enveloped in his scent, his taste. "Ro..."
Pippa whimpers, a plea for mercy when his tongue darts into her mouth, tangles with her own in slow, mutual exploration.
God, he tastes good.
She refuses to think about the fact that they are in the store room, that the band (his friends) are in the bar, undoubtedly well-aware of what they are doing. Instead, she presses herself closer to Rory, trapping her hand between their bodies, lets her mind wander to the sweet promises he made her over the phone. Thoughts of more kisses like this, kisses in more intimate places, making
no subject
She has to remind herself more than once to return his affection as she gets lost in the heady sensations he's stirring in her. She's surrounded by him, enveloped in his scent, his taste. "Ro..."
Pippa whimpers, a plea for mercy when his tongue darts into her mouth, tangles with her own in slow, mutual exploration.
She refuses to think about the fact that they are in the store room, that the band (his friends) are in the bar, undoubtedly well-aware of what they are doing. Instead, she presses herself closer to Rory, trapping her hand between their bodies, lets her mind wander to the sweet promises he made her over the phone. Thoughts of more kisses like this, kisses in more intimate places, making