[She'd expected it. Not because she knows him well enough to map his thoughts or anything along those lines, but because she'd been purposefully pushing buttons to drag out a response. Because he's hard as anything in her palm and breathing hungry through his teeth and the rough, raw dig of his cock buried between her thighs is the eventuality Nisha'd been banking on.
But that doesn't mean she doesn't tense up under it: a tangle of locked muscle and sharp angles as her fingers find the fabric of his shirt to latch on as compensation like she means to ride it out. And she does. Eventually. But for the moment it's just this-- just adjustment to the feeling of him pressing in. Inch by inch.]
no subject
But that doesn't mean she doesn't tense up under it: a tangle of locked muscle and sharp angles as her fingers find the fabric of his shirt to latch on as compensation like she means to ride it out. And she does. Eventually. But for the moment it's just this-- just adjustment to the feeling of him pressing in. Inch by inch.]