Fluttering eyelids, a twitch of his finger. Odin's on the couch curled up on his side without a blanket. The fire must have been reloaded sometime through the night because it's giving off a comfortable warmth.
Not wanting to wake him, a contemplating thought to go back to bed drifts in, yet I can't stop staring at him, everything seems so relaxed. Getting closer, a flutter starting in my stomach. The weakness in my thighs is spreading, he causes this tremble with his presence. Closer still I get, wanting to touch the side of his face, the faster edge of a breath is exhaled out. My finger makes the first contact with skin, his temple to the corner of his closed lid is felt.
Fire races along nerves from that fingertip, up my forearm, descending into my lower spine, the feeling spreads at a consuming rate.
There is an exhaled breath out of Odin's now partially open mouth, yet his eyes remain closed. The slope of his nose is now felt, before my finger traces down across his full soft lip, only to brush his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb. The jawline's structure is felt like he is the braille underneath my touch, learning the contours of him.
A stretch to wake himself up that carries a sleepy sigh as he shifts himself on his back.
Slowly, oh so painfully slow my hand slides down his neck to rest at the base of his throat. A subtle fingertip pressing into the hollow of his neck. There is a powerful pull happening inside me, pressing me to proceed into territory I have been fantasizing about for a while now. Kneeling down on the hardwood floors, my knees are even shaking threatening to topple myself over.
A harsh breath out from him, an even harsher breath from me. My free hand going to my lips brushing roughly against them, to go down to my own neck pretending it's his hand that's feeling my flesh.
Those green eyes don't open, and I'm thankful for that.
Texture varies from shoulder to his chest. Friction generated heat soaking into the open palm of my hand.
Beginning to explore the slopes, dips of his chest, his abdomen. He's flesh, veins, fiber, sinew, and bone. There is an articulation of musculature that comes to life under my touch, it's easy to let the tattoos camouflage what's actually right in front of you.
Scorching fire burns through my veins incinerating all reason, all sense of rightfulness.
Lower down my hand descends, to the band of his boxers. The rise of my own chest making my nipples brush against the material of the nightgown, it's torturous. Vibrating waves crashing between my legs, I can feel myself becoming hot down there and when I squeeze my thighs a shuddering breath of air escapes out of lungs that are trying to breathe quietly.
The free hand cupping my breast, feeling my own nipple, letting the pad of my thumb rub into the hardened top of it. Squeezing myself tight creating and agony, a wretched agony of desire that what's too consuming all of Odin's honor.
Anticipation, holding my hand just on the edge of his maleness that's engorged. A nervous energy makes my hand shake, while my other hand goes to the v of my legs. Quickly looking at Odin's eyes, they are still closed tight. Putting a small amount of pressure at a bud of nerves that are highly receptive at the moment. It's not a moan more of a sigh makes its way out of my throat.
There is no halting this. I want a bliss without any repercussions.
A breath sucked in by him, pulling his abdomen inward, holding the air in his lungs, his eyes remain closed, but his nails grip into the cushion of the couch.
Hesitation, hovering reach of fingertips just a fraction above his maleness.
Searing heat, a breath pulled in from him when my hand feels him through the fabric of the only article of clothing he has on. His hips fractionally push into my exploration of him, a whispered moan from him.
