Summary: He's devouring her from within.
Character Dynamics: Gwen, Kevin ( Gwevin )
Disclaimer: Don't own it.
His lips are flush against her teeth as he knots his fingers into her hair, the pads of each digit grazing her scalp, in an attempt to pull her deeper into him. He gently chews on her bottom lip, lapping and tugging with an appetite for lust, allowing the ridge of each tooth to imprint upon the wet, supple flesh.
She had peeled the clothing from his torso minutes ago, nourishing a crave the blend of hormones that raged through her veins had inflicted upon her, allowing her hands to rake down the length of his chest. Her fingers curled around the belt loops of his jeans as she desperately tried to grasp rationality in thought. Another love bite from him, however, made her anchorage on the rough fabric falter. He drove her over the edge.
Benefitting from her sudden and surprised gasp, his tongue lashes out like a whip into her mouth. His nose is crushed against her flushed cheek and he can feel the hot air filter onto her face from his nostrils. He's devouring her from within, kindling the inferno of salacity that blazes through his conscious and boils the vital fluids in his veins.
Retaliating with a fervor that he eagerly dissects with his tongue, her clouded mind poorly registers that he has her pinned against the cool metal garage door. But it's like he has her surrounded entirely. Her lungs are pumping for enough air to satisfy her chaotic pulse. While one hand digs through her blood red tresses, the other carves out the slight dip of her side and traces the swell of her hips.
Completely overwhelmed, her head lulls back as she acquires her fill of the musky, searing atmosphere. His mouth drinks from the flesh of her neck and her eyes roll in the sockets. Maybe she isn't the prettiest girl in the world, but Kevin could appreciate the beauty of her lustful appetite.
"Kevin…" she murmurs in a breathy tone. The green pigment of her eyes darkens as her eyelids begin to droop. All verbal attempts stagger when he begins to slip her sleeves off her shoulders. She's quick to shrug them down her arms until the coverage becomes a puddle around her waist. Dipping forward, he burrows his head into her chest. Her shoulder blades jab at the metal barrier of the garage. It moans at the connection, blending with her sharp pants of pleasure.
It's hopeless, really. Caught up in a moment like this, it was fruitless to try to get a word in. Distracted as she is, she decides that whatever her mind had concocted is of no use now. Allowing her eyelids to engulf her vision, she relishes in the sensation of his lips.
This is bliss.
A/N: Hmm, I haven't done anything like this in a while. I'm a hopeless romantic. I suppose this piece isn't as hopeless as I am!