“I do not think that is happening any time soon,” she knows that it won’t always be like this, that it won’t always feel like this. A fact that only makes her even more determined to cling to it while it’s there. “But I will let you know,” she kisses at the hollow of Kate’s neck, and across her shoulder. “so you can take… immediate corrective action…”
She grazes her teeth across the sensitive skin of the other girl’s throat. “I want to hear your pleasure, Kate Bishop,” she gently takes her ear between her teeth— a little nibble, a smile and a kiss inside of her ear before she ghosts a soft, light breath along the shell of her ear. These are some of Yelena’s favorite things to do— because it gives people a modicum of control in everything that just keeps happening to them, and at them.
“Oh, I will make sure I unravel you first, my love,” she grins again.
She leans down to press her forehead against Kate’s, crowding closely into her personal space bubble. “I have not even begun the real challenge yet,” she chuckles softly, shaking her head.
“You can touch me any way you want,” she sweeps her fingertips across the high stroke of her cheek. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you. I am not made of porcelain, you can manhandle me a little. I might like it,” she almost sings the last little bit, an eager smirk on her face, curious which ways Kate might take it to heart or, even better still: act on it.
no subject
She grazes her teeth across the sensitive skin of the other girl’s throat. “I want to hear your pleasure, Kate Bishop,” she gently takes her ear between her teeth— a little nibble, a smile and a kiss inside of her ear before she ghosts a soft, light breath along the shell of her ear. These are some of Yelena’s favorite things to do— because it gives people a modicum of control in everything that just keeps happening to them, and at them.
“Oh, I will make sure I unravel you first, my love,” she grins again.
She leans down to press her forehead against Kate’s, crowding closely into her personal space bubble. “I have not even begun the real challenge yet,” she chuckles softly, shaking her head.
“You can touch me any way you want,” she sweeps her fingertips across the high stroke of her cheek. “If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you. I am not made of porcelain, you can manhandle me a little. I might like it,” she almost sings the last little bit, an eager smirk on her face, curious which ways Kate might take it to heart or, even better still: act on it.