[ His restraint is goodโ better than hers at least, and perhaps that's visible in the way Eula writhes on the chair when he places another samosa between his lips, rubs her thighs together because gods damn it, she's in trouble when even the thought of him chewing his food is enough to send fresh sparkles of pleasure between her legs. His eyes are on her mouth, and this time it's not even out of teasing but necessity that she wets her lips with a dart of her tongue, her shaking fingers going back to the fork she let clatter to the table just moments before.
Archons, she wants him, she wants him to show her what he can do with that mouth, wants him to take her in his lap or against the table or against the wall or anywhere, wants him to take her to pieces with his flame before putting her back again... and then burning her down once more. She wants so desperately that it's hard to focus, that the need of it is growing louder than the single thought reminding her that he made this food for her, that she should enjoy it properlyโ
โoh but isn't he just as eager as she? She can see it in the burn of his eyes, how hard it is for him to wait, how much he needs her.
Eula's fingers falter over the silverware, letting it fall back to the tabletop, although she stops short of grabbing him by the tie again; instead, her eyes lift to meet his, breath ghosting short over her own lips. ]
...Can it be reheated without losing too much of its flavor?
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Archons, she wants him, she wants him to show her what he can do with that mouth, wants him to take her in his lap or against the table or against the wall or anywhere, wants him to take her to pieces with his flame before putting her back again... and then burning her down once more. She wants so desperately that it's hard to focus, that the need of it is growing louder than the single thought reminding her that he made this food for her, that she should enjoy it properlyโ
โoh but isn't he just as eager as she? She can see it in the burn of his eyes, how hard it is for him to wait, how much he needs her.
Eula's fingers falter over the silverware, letting it fall back to the tabletop, although she stops short of grabbing him by the tie again; instead, her eyes lift to meet his, breath ghosting short over her own lips. ]
...Can it be reheated without losing too much of its flavor?