"If I made myself untouchable, would it be easier on you?" she asked, purposefully lowering voice and eyelids, smirking. She was pretty sure the answer would be a resounding 'no.'
And then he started to describe what he'd been thinking at the restaurant, Christ. Hanging on his every word, Amber's full-body blush only deepened. She knew Eric wanted her: if the way his gaze followed her, and a thousand other signs, hadn't been enough to clue her in, she had the concrete proof of his desire pressing up against her. But to hear him say it, to catch the pitch of his voice on keywords-- it was amazing. There was no other word for it. Amber couldn't not kiss him properly, sucking on his lower lip, slipping her tongue into his mouth. God, how she loved this, their being so close together, as if they could come to occupy the same space.
With Eric's rocking steady between her, the friction problem was more than solved. Amber hummed, buzzing from the consistent stimulation against her mound; she could stay like this a long, long while. "Duh," she answered. Teasing meant having power, with begging the polar opposite: submitting to someone's will. While she could relinquish control to a sexual partner for brief periods, before long she inevitably chafed against the structure and found a way to get back to the metaphorical top. "Don't you?" Being an underling didn't suit Eric; he'd risen to the position of department head the first chance he got, and it hurt him to be back under House's thumb.
Yet... Amber stroked Eric's back as she thought. That first night, despite his fears, he'd let her penetrate him. Wasn't that a form of submission? She'd been a stranger to him and still he'd let himself trust her that much. And their patient, with a neurological condition, pathologically imitating whoever was in control, had chosen her. Maybe Eric liked begging. Maybe he didn't know that about himself.
Now there was a theory to test.
Timing it just right to the roll of their hips, Amber pulled down her nylons and kicked them off before lazily bending her legs over Eric's. He liked seeing her, she knew. This might be enough to get him more excited but not so much as to make him lose his head—in other words, the perfect tease. Though, she reflected as she rubbed her bare skin against the silk of his trousers, this was not helping keep her own arousal down.
no subject
And then he started to describe what he'd been thinking at the restaurant, Christ. Hanging on his every word, Amber's full-body blush only deepened. She knew Eric wanted her: if the way his gaze followed her, and a thousand other signs, hadn't been enough to clue her in, she had the concrete proof of his desire pressing up against her. But to hear him say it, to catch the pitch of his voice on keywords-- it was amazing. There was no other word for it. Amber couldn't not kiss him properly, sucking on his lower lip, slipping her tongue into his mouth. God, how she loved this, their being so close together, as if they could come to occupy the same space.
With Eric's rocking steady between her, the friction problem was more than solved. Amber hummed, buzzing from the consistent stimulation against her mound; she could stay like this a long, long while. "Duh," she answered. Teasing meant having power, with begging the polar opposite: submitting to someone's will. While she could relinquish control to a sexual partner for brief periods, before long she inevitably chafed against the structure and found a way to get back to the metaphorical top. "Don't you?" Being an underling didn't suit Eric; he'd risen to the position of department head the first chance he got, and it hurt him to be back under House's thumb.
Yet... Amber stroked Eric's back as she thought. That first night, despite his fears, he'd let her penetrate him. Wasn't that a form of submission? She'd been a stranger to him and still he'd let himself trust her that much. And their patient, with a neurological condition, pathologically imitating whoever was in control, had chosen her. Maybe Eric liked begging. Maybe he didn't know that about himself.
Now there was a theory to test.
Timing it just right to the roll of their hips, Amber pulled down her nylons and kicked them off before lazily bending her legs over Eric's. He liked seeing her, she knew. This might be enough to get him more excited but not so much as to make him lose his head—in other words, the perfect tease. Though, she reflected as she rubbed her bare skin against the silk of his trousers, this was not helping keep her own arousal down.