Gadriel closed his eyes for a long moment, holding her against him as though trying to memorize the feel of her against him--her satin skin, and warmth and the smell like vanilla and sugar in her hair, the way you hold something precious you know is not yours and you have to give back soon.
He had hoped--never mind what he had hoped.
He took her exploring hand and brought it up to plant a soft kiss on her palm, rubbing his cheek against it for a moment, before he moved: his other hand steadied her hips and took her weight as he stood, and twisted, to lay her down on the couch, kneeling over her. The movement was swift and sudden, but he was careful, sweeping her tail out of the way so it didn't get bent at a strange angle or worse yet, get pinned under his knee.
His pale eyes sought hers for a long moment and then he lowered his head, pressing another kiss against her breastbone, and then lower, nipping at the spring of her hip from her waist, catching the scent of her desire with a long, feral intake of breath that sent a shiver through him. He wanted her so badly and he could feel a high pitched animal keening building in him, as he slid himself back up, holding his weight off her, just enough for her to feel the heat of his skin as he whispered in her ear, his voice hoarse, face buried against her. "My body. I told you. It does not...do that."
A few thousand years of hypnoindoctrination rewiring the average Astartes brain away from the very idea of sex, turning it into aggression, a prey drive, was to blame. She must have noticed he had no erection. It was not her. It was, in fact, him that was the problem.
He sat back, slowly, between her legs, looking at her beautiful body, the late afternoon sun slanting in through the windows, gilding her curves into arabesques. He let his hands trail over her breasts, and down to trace parallel lines up her inner thighs with reverence. "I will leave if you want." Why not? He could not give her what she wanted.
Gadriel ruins everything part infinity
He had hoped--never mind what he had hoped.
He took her exploring hand and brought it up to plant a soft kiss on her palm, rubbing his cheek against it for a moment, before he moved: his other hand steadied her hips and took her weight as he stood, and twisted, to lay her down on the couch, kneeling over her. The movement was swift and sudden, but he was careful, sweeping her tail out of the way so it didn't get bent at a strange angle or worse yet, get pinned under his knee.
His pale eyes sought hers for a long moment and then he lowered his head, pressing another kiss against her breastbone, and then lower, nipping at the spring of her hip from her waist, catching the scent of her desire with a long, feral intake of breath that sent a shiver through him. He wanted her so badly and he could feel a high pitched animal keening building in him, as he slid himself back up, holding his weight off her, just enough for her to feel the heat of his skin as he whispered in her ear, his voice hoarse, face buried against her. "My body. I told you. It does not...do that."
A few thousand years of hypnoindoctrination rewiring the average Astartes brain away from the very idea of sex, turning it into aggression, a prey drive, was to blame. She must have noticed he had no erection. It was not her. It was, in fact, him that was the problem.
He sat back, slowly, between her legs, looking at her beautiful body, the late afternoon sun slanting in through the windows, gilding her curves into arabesques. He let his hands trail over her breasts, and down to trace parallel lines up her inner thighs with reverence. "I will leave if you want." Why not? He could not give her what she wanted.