[Jill believes in fate and the universe enough to pray for the both of them and she'd be a liar if the thought of imploring the gods for a way to make the water boil faster didn't just cross her mind.
With Clive being a man of few words sometimes, she's learned to read his body language as well as she's learned to devour her romance novels. The way his shoulders straighten up and he poses to fly right tells Jill that this is a man who would not only do anything for her, but would do anything she told him to. The idea of having Clive at her beck and call, at their most intimate and private moments, spins a shiver down her spine.
Something to be explored sooner rather than later, perhaps.]
That sounds quite the lofty goal, my lord. Surely other things would demand your attention.
[And if those things know what's good for them, they'll be just fine with being ignored until the both of them are done with each other in whatever ways that may be.]
Certainly not at this moment, no. [ He seconds this with a shake of his head, but goodness was the air in the room almost making him become lightheaded.
To ease this, as well as a few other things, the man couldn't help but force himself upward and out of his seat. He nears the hearth slowly, all while never taking his eyes off of her. You know... to observe in this all to easy process of tea making.
Yet, at this very moment, it seemed like a two person job. He certainly couldn't sit around and let her do all the work, now could he? ]
Nor any other moment, for that matter. [ Perhaps there was something they could do in the meantime rather than twiddle their thumbs and let the tension raise? He couldn't help it, not with all the staring and teasing and Clive was never one to sit back and allow something to happen.
So with a gentle hand he'll raise it up to her cheek, quietly stroking the bangs out of her face before leaning down and delivering a single kiss to her lips. A sensation sweeter than any other treat accompanied by the tea, he thought. ]
[The tension is thick enough to be cut with either one of their blades. The heat that fills the room can certainly be blamed on the roaring hearth, but the warmth that Jill feels curling in the deepest part of her stomach cannot. It's a mixture of excitement and desire both as she watches him practically stalk towards her, eyes forever fixed on her as he promised. This man has a way of making her feel some kind of way when it's just the two of them, but she's certainly not complaining about that right now.
Jill says nothing in response to him, nothing but the sound of her breath catching short in her throat as his fingers gently brush away the unruly strands and a soft whimper as his lips press against hers. It's barely anything, just a simple kiss, but it's enough to break that godsforsaken pressure to behave until the tea is ready and more than enough to have her melting against him, hands coming up to grip his biceps in case he dares to leave her standing here with just this bit of affection.]
[ No force alive could keep him apart from her at this very moment. Even if the winds themselves crashed in or the waves gave way to a storm, her arms served as a steady anchor to keep him in place. Which, by all accounts, only offered to solidify his stance and remain ever grounded.
The sounds of her whimper was intoxicating, so much so that Clive wished for the opportunity to hear more of it. He loved the sound; every sigh, every inhale, every caught breath that took his own away... and he wished to hear more of it.
Dipping his head down further the man once again captured her lips onto his own. Yet rather than release right away he deepens it, pressing a bit of his own weight onto her in order to close the very little distance left between them. With his free hand he offer it around her waist, being an anchor to her as much as she was to him.
And he wasn't intending to let go anytime soon, not even as the sounds of a ready kettle began to sound off beside him. ]
[Those arms only last but so long as that anchor before she's shifting them along the length of his biceps, fingers tracing slow sensual lines. Though his demanding mouth is distracting her from fully studying the lean muscle underneath the sleeves of his shirt (something she already has memorized but a little more research never hurt anybody), Jill still takes the time to explore the way his skin radiates pure warmth against her cool palms. Fire and ice, they will forever be, but never shall she fear being burned. Clive is safety, devotion, and above all at this particular moment, he is passion and even with the tea kettle's shrill shriek being ignored, Jill hopes to drown in that feeling tonight.
Allowing him to crowd her, Jill presses back against the wall behind her, ignoring how the bricks' edges dig into her skin. She doesn't dare move away from him, lest his lips leave hers right when she parts her own, granting silent permission to do what he wishes. Though after a moment, Jill is no longer the woman who hemmed and hawed over discussing their intimacy a few minutes ago, not with how she suddenly decides to take control of things and nips lightly at his lower lip with the edge of her teeth. Not hard enough to break flesh, but firm enough to signal how greedy her mouth can be when Clive is involved.]
[ The heat slowly encapsuling and filling within these wooden walls was not due to the steady fire or heated brew, but by something much deeper. Something that had been buried underneath the grime of an uncertain past. Yet as the layers are being wiped away something new, polished, perfect was lying there all along.
The sudden assertive behavior that Jill displayed just moments before and even now justifiably has Clive practically melting into her arms. He's no longer in control of his motions or sounds as evident of the quiet noise he makes from the back of his throat. It's a pleasurable one— somewhere nestled between a hum and an eager gasp. But it's a good sign. A sign he was allowed to carefully, but assertively, reciprocate the passion they both so desperately desired from one another.
So with her back against the wall and allowing no more room to move closer to her than he possibly could, Clive briefly releases his pull from her lips if only to begin laying soft, intimate kisses upon her cheek. He doesn't seem to be stopping or slowing down though, as those kisses move from her cheek to her lower jawline, and even further down and back still until they reach just underneath her hairline. Each kiss becoming more desperate and demanding than the last.
With both hands to her waist he moves them up slightly, delicately moving his fingers through the tousle of fabric until they were able to cross over the hem line of her blouse. He doesn't do anything, not yet, but the eagerness of his fingertips would easily slide just under the line, revealing the smallest amount of flesh for his nails to caress against. ]
[The muscles of her belly tighten under his touch in anticipation as she lets her head fall back again the wall, giving him room to work his kisses down the column of her throat. Jill swallows deeply, wondering of he can feel how hard her pulse races under the thin skin there, though she no longer feels shame in showing just how he excites her. How he gets her body heated with every brush of his fingers, every press of his mouth against secret places others can barely see, every wordless sound he makes as her own hands tangle into his hair with ever the slightest pull to the strands.]
Clive...
[His name is both a prayer and a plea on her lips. For him not to stop, to continue his search of her bared skin, for him not to tease her when she needs to feel every part of him inside and out for she can never get enough of that.]
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no subject
With Clive being a man of few words sometimes, she's learned to read his body language as well as she's learned to devour her romance novels. The way his shoulders straighten up and he poses to fly right tells Jill that this is a man who would not only do anything for her, but would do anything she told him to. The idea of having Clive at her beck and call, at their most intimate and private moments, spins a shiver down her spine.
Something to be explored sooner rather than later, perhaps.]
That sounds quite the lofty goal, my lord. Surely other things would demand your attention.
[And if those things know what's good for them, they'll be just fine with being ignored until the both of them are done with each other in whatever ways that may be.]
no subject
To ease this, as well as a few other things, the man couldn't help but force himself upward and out of his seat. He nears the hearth slowly, all while never taking his eyes off of her. You know... to observe in this all to easy process of tea making.
Yet, at this very moment, it seemed like a two person job. He certainly couldn't sit around and let her do all the work, now could he? ]
Nor any other moment, for that matter. [ Perhaps there was something they could do in the meantime rather than twiddle their thumbs and let the tension raise? He couldn't help it, not with all the staring and teasing and Clive was never one to sit back and allow something to happen.
So with a gentle hand he'll raise it up to her cheek, quietly stroking the bangs out of her face before leaning down and delivering a single kiss to her lips. A sensation sweeter than any other treat accompanied by the tea, he thought. ]
no subject
Jill says nothing in response to him, nothing but the sound of her breath catching short in her throat as his fingers gently brush away the unruly strands and a soft whimper as his lips press against hers. It's barely anything, just a simple kiss, but it's enough to break that godsforsaken pressure to behave until the tea is ready and more than enough to have her melting against him, hands coming up to grip his biceps in case he dares to leave her standing here with just this bit of affection.]
no subject
The sounds of her whimper was intoxicating, so much so that Clive wished for the opportunity to hear more of it. He loved the sound; every sigh, every inhale, every caught breath that took his own away... and he wished to hear more of it.
Dipping his head down further the man once again captured her lips onto his own. Yet rather than release right away he deepens it, pressing a bit of his own weight onto her in order to close the very little distance left between them. With his free hand he offer it around her waist, being an anchor to her as much as she was to him.
And he wasn't intending to let go anytime soon, not even as the sounds of a ready kettle began to sound off beside him. ]
no subject
Allowing him to crowd her, Jill presses back against the wall behind her, ignoring how the bricks' edges dig into her skin. She doesn't dare move away from him, lest his lips leave hers right when she parts her own, granting silent permission to do what he wishes. Though after a moment, Jill is no longer the woman who hemmed and hawed over discussing their intimacy a few minutes ago, not with how she suddenly decides to take control of things and nips lightly at his lower lip with the edge of her teeth. Not hard enough to break flesh, but firm enough to signal how greedy her mouth can be when Clive is involved.]
no subject
The sudden assertive behavior that Jill displayed just moments before and even now justifiably has Clive practically melting into her arms. He's no longer in control of his motions or sounds as evident of the quiet noise he makes from the back of his throat. It's a pleasurable one— somewhere nestled between a hum and an eager gasp. But it's a good sign. A sign he was allowed to carefully, but assertively, reciprocate the passion they both so desperately desired from one another.
So with her back against the wall and allowing no more room to move closer to her than he possibly could, Clive briefly releases his pull from her lips if only to begin laying soft, intimate kisses upon her cheek. He doesn't seem to be stopping or slowing down though, as those kisses move from her cheek to her lower jawline, and even further down and back still until they reach just underneath her hairline. Each kiss becoming more desperate and demanding than the last.
With both hands to her waist he moves them up slightly, delicately moving his fingers through the tousle of fabric until they were able to cross over the hem line of her blouse. He doesn't do anything, not yet, but the eagerness of his fingertips would easily slide just under the line, revealing the smallest amount of flesh for his nails to caress against. ]
no subject
Clive...
[His name is both a prayer and a plea on her lips. For him not to stop, to continue his search of her bared skin, for him not to tease her when she needs to feel every part of him inside and out for she can never get enough of that.]