[Someone else might take it as a slap on the wrist, but Nisha lives for the sting of every breath and the way pain spirals through nerves, so where his teeth find flesh she does nothing more than smile, sucking in a quick breath around the shape of his knuckles.
The rest of her doesn't budge.
His expectations might always be met, but they run on her time, and there's nothing rushed about the way her leg edges in against his thigh, low and pressing just under the still-latched line of his belt buckle. No matter how he scrapes and digs, Nisha's insistence stays a steady, steady constant.
He never signed her on for the overabundant luxury of blind obedience.]
no subject
The rest of her doesn't budge.
His expectations might always be met, but they run on her time, and there's nothing rushed about the way her leg edges in against his thigh, low and pressing just under the still-latched line of his belt buckle. No matter how he scrapes and digs, Nisha's insistence stays a steady, steady constant.
He never signed her on for the overabundant luxury of blind obedience.]