[ his touch doesn't catch her by surprise. she sees it, telegraphed, in his should and in his arm before it happens. and peggy, much like she did the week before, turns her face only slightly towards the gesture. she could have stopped it, dodged it, refused it; however, she didn't. but even as she indulges this bit of afterglow intimacy, she doesn't invite anything more.
what she does instead is shift languid-like onto her side, propping her head up with the flat of a palm. peggy's arm drapes across her side, red-nailed fingers finding a comfortable and familiar place against her own hip, the dark blue of her garter belt, and it's a compromise -- although she's spent and lazy in her own right, she at least pins her attention on him like some alternative to snuggling together. ]
Surely. [ peggy repeats. and although she thinks about kissing him, it's harder to accomplish without the white hot furnace of arousal driving her forward. to kiss him now would be almost exclusively sentimental.
unacceptable. ]
I do believe you've more than made up for last week. [ which is another scrap of praise masquerading as mild retort. silently, peggy thinks she could do with a drink -- spirits or otherwise -- but she doesn't trust her legs to carry her, just yet, and she'll be damned before she asks rip for any favours.
and so it's idle chatter (pillow talk, ugh) until she gathers enough steam to slip out. at least, that's the plan. it's not terrible concrete just yet -- and there's something wonderfully nice about laying right here and watch all of rip hunter's springs stay uncoiled.
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what she does instead is shift languid-like onto her side, propping her head up with the flat of a palm. peggy's arm drapes across her side, red-nailed fingers finding a comfortable and familiar place against her own hip, the dark blue of her garter belt, and it's a compromise -- although she's spent and lazy in her own right, she at least pins her attention on him like some alternative to snuggling together. ]
Surely. [ peggy repeats. and although she thinks about kissing him, it's harder to accomplish without the white hot furnace of arousal driving her forward. to kiss him now would be almost exclusively sentimental.
unacceptable. ]
I do believe you've more than made up for last week. [ which is another scrap of praise masquerading as mild retort. silently, peggy thinks she could do with a drink -- spirits or otherwise -- but she doesn't trust her legs to carry her, just yet, and she'll be damned before she asks rip for any favours.
and so it's idle chatter (pillow talk, ugh) until she gathers enough steam to slip out. at least, that's the plan. it's not terrible concrete just yet -- and there's something wonderfully nice about laying right here and watch all of rip hunter's springs stay uncoiled.
it's a view she likes. ]