[She's a damn demanding partner, a lesson Rip is learning quickly and in spades, yet he enjoys that unyielding quality in her, certainly more so now than in their professional engagements, but that's a far off concern at present. Hours away, a whole sunrise at least, and when he nips and finds reward in the way her breath catches just so, Rip is the one who grins against her flesh.
Seems he's found another button to push; how many more still will he discover before they're each sated?
Except Peggy's done a bit of exploration of her own, fingers snaking underneath his shirt, and when she tries to pull away the cloth she gets a grumbled complaint for her trouble. Now who's the one trying to get him to break off, and just as Rip's centered his parted lips over her pulse, readied himself to do something she will undoubtedly be quite cross at him for. But coordination makes certain demands neither of them can quite meet, and he's left to hum against her throat as Peggy brags into his ear, confirmation of what Rip himself has said while at the same time turning it into a triumph for herself.
Well. He can hardly let that stand, can he?
There is no warning beyond a tightening of Rip's hold before he turns towards his right--her left, because even sloshed Rip isn't keen on having her gun dig further into his leg. The tangled mess of their bodies only grows worse as Rip half-tosses, half-drops them onto the couch, meaning to have Peggy land flat on her back with Rip poised above her. Never mind that he has no hope of a graceful transition by now; a miracle might allow Peggy to land without hitting her head in some uncomfortable way, only to have Rip's weight press into her scant moments later.
But once he's balanced--oh! They would absolutely see just how he could perch himself atop her, albeit in not quite an upright position.]
no subject
Seems he's found another button to push; how many more still will he discover before they're each sated?
Except Peggy's done a bit of exploration of her own, fingers snaking underneath his shirt, and when she tries to pull away the cloth she gets a grumbled complaint for her trouble. Now who's the one trying to get him to break off, and just as Rip's centered his parted lips over her pulse, readied himself to do something she will undoubtedly be quite cross at him for. But coordination makes certain demands neither of them can quite meet, and he's left to hum against her throat as Peggy brags into his ear, confirmation of what Rip himself has said while at the same time turning it into a triumph for herself.
Well. He can hardly let that stand, can he?
There is no warning beyond a tightening of Rip's hold before he turns towards his right--her left, because even sloshed Rip isn't keen on having her gun dig further into his leg. The tangled mess of their bodies only grows worse as Rip half-tosses, half-drops them onto the couch, meaning to have Peggy land flat on her back with Rip poised above her. Never mind that he has no hope of a graceful transition by now; a miracle might allow Peggy to land without hitting her head in some uncomfortable way, only to have Rip's weight press into her scant moments later.
But once he's balanced--oh! They would absolutely see just how he could perch himself atop her, albeit in not quite an upright position.]