daisily: (Default)
DAISY BUCHANAN ([personal profile] daisily) wrote in [personal profile] trenchknives 2014-03-31 02:07 am (UTC)

[One by one, her buttons are undone, revealing the line of her spine, his rhythm unbroken by the absence of any underlying intimate garments. She tries not to shiver from how lightly his fingers stroke each new inch of skin, until the top of her dress is open entirely, with only the skirt in place. With her back exposed, the narrow shoulder blades are visibly tight with tension as she folds her arms modestly over her front.

Abashed, she turns to face him, the fine, white features of her face positively pink, her teeth worrying with her plump bottom lip, her hands clutching at her ribs to hide the subtle curve of breasts. Uncertain if he would be amused or angered at her audacity of being so prudent in the bedroom, she cannot meet his eyes directly for a long moment. She has nothing to say, no words to articulate what she wants, lost as to how she could suggest it any more directly to him.

Perhaps it's because she can't stand to look down at her crumpled dress, but she tips her head up to look at him, still not accepting his gaze. She focuses instead on his mouth, remembering the raw vigor of his kisses, the praise he has spoken for her. She would quite like another, but to cup his jaw means to reveal herself fully, so she sits in imposed self-restraint.]

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