[ He's smirking too -- the sort of smirk that communicates smugness and cockiness and a lot of other -nesses that are a little infuriating, but Peter likes to think it looks charming on him. ]
Now that is definitely a good sign.
[ He presses his lips between her breasts, kissing farther and farther down until he reaches her bellybutton, where he pauses briefly to swirl and dip his tongue. His hand, in the meanwhile, is tentatively drawing a line in what is definitively a southerly direction, pausing at the waistband of her suit.
The funny thing is, for all his bluster, Peter knows he's kind of a fuck-up, and the last thing he wants to do is mess up their relationship by going at the wrong speed (though his usual speed is a few drinks, a bed, and goodbyes in the morning, so what does he know?). He hesitates again and looks back at her; and despite the flush of his own skin and his quick and ragged breathing, his expression is earnest and a little worried. ]
no subject
Now that is definitely a good sign.
[ He presses his lips between her breasts, kissing farther and farther down until he reaches her bellybutton, where he pauses briefly to swirl and dip his tongue. His hand, in the meanwhile, is tentatively drawing a line in what is definitively a southerly direction, pausing at the waistband of her suit.
The funny thing is, for all his bluster, Peter knows he's kind of a fuck-up, and the last thing he wants to do is mess up their relationship by going at the wrong speed (though his usual speed is a few drinks, a bed, and goodbyes in the morning, so what does he know?). He hesitates again and looks back at her; and despite the flush of his own skin and his quick and ragged breathing, his expression is earnest and a little worried. ]
You're sure you're ready?