I'll still kiss you. [His lips brush across the long line of her ear, as though to make the point.] And touch you. And you'll hear me breathing; you'll feel me moving.
[Kindly words spoken from a man who knows he's depriving her. In fact, as he says as much, the sound of rustling clothing. The sound of Henry stroking himself, slow. Maybe she'll even feel it brushing against her, for how close they are.]
no subject
[Kindly words spoken from a man who knows he's depriving her. In fact, as he says as much, the sound of rustling clothing. The sound of Henry stroking himself, slow. Maybe she'll even feel it brushing against her, for how close they are.]