Chapter 13 – Skin
That sweet voice, hot and heavy in her ear, filled her with so much excitement that it became difficult to contain. Italy nipped at her earlobe and all along the shell of her ear. "Germany..." he breathed out desperately. "Let me make love to you..."
Germany had to repress groaning from all this rising excitement, but a small mewl managed to find its way through. From the way Italy continued to vehemently grind against her upon hearing that pleasant little noise, it obviously didn't do her any benefit. Despite their growing need for more skin and more touch, she really felt they needed to stop and think about this first. After all those abstinence lectures her brother had forced her into, she should at least make them worth the pain and suffering. "Italy..." she breathily called out to him, tugging his hair back a second time—she was extremely careful to ensure that his name did not come out as a wanton moan like hers did out of his mouth. Against her grip, she felt his head suddenly tilt and dip back down, assaulting her with wet, open-mouthed kisses up along her throat, making her eyes flutter near total abandon.
No—focus was key at the moment. Her eyes shot back open, and with all the strength she had left that hadn't dissipated from her system, she brought her hands to his shoulders and pushed the amorous boy back with a great—almost excessive—amount of force, catching him in surprise. They stared at each other at arm's length distance, confusion and worry written behind the Italian's eyes. He was certainly hoping he hadn't angered her or gone too far with her. She pursed her lips, hesitation hid behind her crystal-blue irises, her cheeks still dusted over with a light sheen of pink—she almost regretted she made him stop loving her for a moment, but the forthcoming discussion was absolutely necessary.
Her mouth opened, but the words were a little delayed. "...What are we doing, Italy?"
His brow scrunched even further in apprehension. "Ve..."
"I...I came here to find out how you really feel about me—first you say you didn't know, then you say you love me, and now we're here and you're suddenly saying you want to make love to me?"
He responded with silence. At the moment, it was more important for him to listen to everything that she had to tell him. She slowly and hesitantly shook her head, unable to find any good that could come out of their spontaneous and passionate fit. And it felt much too shallow for her to submit to such requests for intimacy so easily. The timing just seemed terrible. "I'm..." She paused for a moment, hesitant of her next words. "...I'm not sure if I want to continue like this," she softly told him, gently pushing him away even further. "I'm still not even sure if you really meant what you had told me earlier, so I don't think I should let it get this far...not yet, at least..."
Germany was really hoping all this wouldn't be followed by complaints or sobs of rejection and denial. Surprisingly, however, Italy remained silent, his eyes calm and composed towards her declination. A small smile suddenly graced his still flushed features, catching her a little off guard. "Believe me," he softly started off. "If I hadn't meant a single ounce of what I said earlier, I wouldn't have said it in the first place." Her eyes expressed a bit of confusion and surprise to the candor of his words. Italy then sighed in apparent defeat of the situation, softly placing his hands atop of hers to bring them off his shoulders. His large hazel eyes and his handsome smile looked so understanding.
"I would never push you to do something you wouldn't want to do, Germany."
Although his words seemed so touching at first, she had come to a brief realization that his words weren't exactly true. Her eyes began drifting around in a tiny ounce of incredulity, her memory flashing back to times when he would pull her in for their fiftieth cone of gelato, or when he begged and practically forced her to play football while she was engrossed in a particularly good read. She then scoffed comically. "Um, you actually have done that a couple of times," she rebuked him.
"Ve..." His eyes drifted upwards in thought, considering whether or not he had forced her into things before, and he foolishly concluded that he had definitely done so. He began scratching his head sheepishly. "Eh...I guess you're right," he chuckled bashfully, leaving her to roll her eyes at him.
"But still," he continued on, his expression suddenly reverting back to the seriousness he conveyed to her earlier. "I wouldn't force you to do something like this if you're not comfortable yet."
She stared back at him, slightly incredulous to this new level of maturity he was displaying to her. He smiled again, a hint of melancholy emanating from still slightly hazy eyes. "I guess I understand why you wouldn't believe me this time when I told you that I love you...Maybe when you turn back to normal, hopefully you would let me have a second chance to prove my love to you."
He slowly placed her hands back at her sides and began to head towards the kitchen as if nothing weird or dramatic had ever occurred within those past few minutes. "I hope you're not that mad at me anymore—we can probably enjoy some gelato for the afternoon, yeah?"
It was really easy for her to see how hard it must be for him to resist, and immediately she was washed over with an odd mixture of admiration and remorse. Out of all the times she had pushed Italy's limits, this was by far the best display of endurance he had shown her yet (for God's sake, he was walking away from her with a hard on). And although her mind found justification in their reasoning things over, she immediately regretted pushing him away. Everything just felt so blissful before her mind decided none of it was honest or moral. How could she not believe in his words? This very moment, he was being so considerate of her wellbeing that he actually resisted the tempting sweetness of their possibly making love. That thought alone provoked such a strong realization in her: she yearned for him. He was ready to give himself to her, and she was just about let him walk away thinking that she was still untrusting of him? After all the painful arguments and confessions they had undergone just to get to such a climactic conclusion, there was no way she was going to let him walk away just like that. Whatever her mind insisted on was drowned out by her heart screaming out to her to bring him back into her arms.
"Wait."
Just as he was walking away, her arm shot up and immediately grabbed for his, taking him by surprise as she pulled him back towards her direction. After she got him to spin around and face her again, her other hand reached for the lacings on his white shirt, gripping in earnest as she slowly pulled him back closer to her. Both hands lifted and reached for his face, gently cupping either cheek, still radiating small amounts of heat from their previous and brief session of intimacy. She found her thumb instinctively running over the still slightly darkened blemish she had so shamefully inflicted upon him a couple of days ago, as if in hopes that her affection and remorse could somehow wash the damage away. Her eyes searched frantically for his, and he could instantly sense the longing behind her blue irises.
"Germany? What's wrong?" he asked her, curious as to what could be going through her mind at the moment.
Her lips began feeling a little dry, so she wet them for a moment—his taste still lingered and it tantalized her even further. She opened her mouth, but she was unsure of what words to use. 'I changed my mind—I want you now'? If she had any pet peeves at all—and God knows she has many—one of them was inconsistency. So instead of resorting with words so shallow and indecisive, she decided to go with a simpler request.
"Kiss me."
Germany actually had to choke those words out at first—such a straightforward request completely washed her over with embarrassment. But it replenished her with another wave of desire. She wanted him now.
She noticed his eyes widen in slight shock and uncertainty. He licked his lips—she could tell he really wanted to acquiesce, but something looked to be holding him back. Italy thought she might be testing him again, trying to break him and see if he would really live up to his word of holding back until she was ready to believe him. The idea seemed a little cruel to him—Germany was one to place such cruel tests of endurance upon him, after all—but he was determined to resist her. If sacrificing such pleasures with her was all it took to win her love, then by God, he was ready to do it. He blankly stared back, seemingly unresponsive to such a tempting request.
The lack of a response could not fool her, however. The last thing she needed was any more misunderstandings and confusion, so she took the initiative and gave him a hint as the hands cupping his face slowly pulled him down closer to her own. He felt her hands guiding him and the action only confused him even more. Was she still testing him? Whatever the answer was, he was slowly losing track of it when her lips touched back down on his. For once, it was Germany who initiated their lip lock, and goodness gracious, it felt heavenly. She seemed a little bashful at first as she tried to mimic the same amount of heat Italy would radiate onto her, oddly moving her lips in peculiar puckers and tilting her head within intervals of literally five seconds in between. Of course she'd be anal about these little things, too. When her lips began to feel a little shaky from uncertainty, he decided to respond enthusiastically, just to let her know she was doing a very decent job for him. He managed to elicit a small sigh of relief from her before she pulled away momentarily.
She gulped, her cheeks reddened again to a glowing hue. "H-How was that...?" she asked him in a nervous and embarrassed stutter. Italy immediately smiled in response, but couldn't repress his still remaining curiosity over her sudden change of heart.
"I thought you didn't want any of me just yet."
"That—I...well..."
Oh, boy—how to explain herself now. Germany tried to reason her way out, but rather unsuccessfully as she began stuttering in her words.
"I-I didn't say that I didn't want you, or—"
"But I thought you didn't believe me?"
"E-Even if I don't believe you...I don't think it's very—umm...polite of you to just walk away from a woman as if—a-as if nothing ever happened! And furthermore...uhh..." She was quickly running out of excuses, but meanwhile she failed to notice the Italian slowly stepping forward. She never even noticed herself backing up into that same space of wall he first pinned her down on until he finally had her caged all to himself. She looked up at him as he loomed over her, embarrassed over her failure to cover up her inconsistencies. A playful smirk tugged along his lips, causing her to squirm apprehensively.
"Ve...At least now you can say we talked about it first, right?" he asked her playfully.
She blushed even harder, but with that being said, there's no holding her back. "Gott, just kiss me already," she breathlessly demanded him as she yanked him by the shirt to claim his lips for her own.
Italy eagerly acquiesced, grinning madly as her lips met his in a messy open-mouthed kiss, struggling to take in his every breath. He had her pinned up against the wall again, mouthing her on the lips, neck, temple, wherever he could possibly reach for without hindering his travelling hands that have only begun to fumble with her double-breasted jacket—too many buttons he needed to deal with at the moment. While Italy fumbled with the brass buttons along her chest and stomach, reveling in the depth of her contours as he went, she attempted to be of benefit to him, nipping experimentally at his ear whenever she could reach it while her hands ran all along from his hair all the way down his back, occasionally grasping his rear just for the fun of the game.
Just when he finally had that last button undone, Germany mindlessly fingered through his hair and managed to massage against the base of his curl, bringing him into another shuddering fit as he groaned heedlessly against her now exposed collarbone. When that delightful sound reached her ears, she began pondering over how she could elicit such wonderful noises out of him. She examined her movements that moment—one hand was planted on one cheek of his rear-end and the other was fisting his hair. She gave the former a test as she eagerly squeezed its roundness, but such only resulted in a low hum of approval and an innocent peck on the juncture between her neck and her shoulder. She tried her hand along his hair this time, fingering through and trying to discover his sensitive spots. That same hand still remained around that blasted curl of his, so she didn't have to wander off very far before she had him moaning in the crook of her neck again, her curious fingers innocuously brushing against the bouncing strand of rogue hair. She looked down at the panting boy pressed against her with much incredulity as she yanked at his curl again—Italy only responded with a sudden thrust of his hips against hers, making her gasp in surprise.
It's confirmed, then.
Germany concluded with bewilderment that this curl must be his ultimate weak spot. Of course, she knew well before how weak it made him—such was the primary reason why she always used it to her advantage and successfully kept him quiet, but looking back on the numerous times she would do this to his curl, she blushed beet red at the implications of it all. Numerous times she had been assaulting his senses with outpours of pleasure just as she was doing to him at this moment, and she would be so oblivious to it all.
"Why haven't you told me about this?" she growled at him in a mix of embarrassment and excitement towards the discovery, yanking incessantly at his curl just for the pleasure of listening to his heavy panting.
"Ve...ve...Everytime I—ahh...try to...tell you...hnn...you keep pu-pulling at it, s-so...I lose my voice...haaa..."
She shook her head in comic disbelief, her hand jerking suggestively at the rogue strand of hair. "All this time, just to get you to shut up, this was what I've been doing to you?"
"Germany~" he whined. "It always felt so good...it was torture how much I always had to hold back..."
"You don't have to hold back anymore," she whispered to him.
"Grazie a Dio," he breathed out as he finally yanked her olive jacket off of her shoulders and off of her body completely, leaving her in just one article less of clothing for him to fumble with. Beneath that jacket was a black tee that draped delicately over her curves and her iron cross around her neck—those were surely easy to be rid of and can wait until later. In brisk movements, he jerked her by the arms away from the wall and threw her onto a nearby coffee table, holding back enough force to keep from breaking or bruising anything or anyone. Germany felt her back make contact with the coffee table as a thud reached her ears, but any pain she felt and any complaints she had for the reckless Italian were brushed away when he immediately hovered over her and assaulted her neck with much ardor, his fingertips brushing teasingly beneath her tee and along her stomach. A soft but high moan reached her ears as she threw her head back onto the wood for the Italian boy to devour.
Although they were both too caught up in ever-increasing titillation to rationalize over every little aspect of their passionate fit, Germany couldn't help but feel bothered over their current location. Just when she was about to protest, Italy positioned himself between her legs, grinding on her vehemently, sending jolts from her hips all the way up her spine and leaving the poor, defenseless table creaking and squeaking—even the coffee table began protesting. She decided if they didn't reposition themselves somewhere else immediately, they may just end up destroying some good furniture in the process. Other than that, there was no way she was about to allow her virginity to be lost on top of a damn coffee table—she's going to make sure they did this properly.
"I-Italy..." she gasped, the increasing pools of heat between her legs distracting her immensely. "Not...Not here," she weakly growled in his ear.
The boy stopped his movements, much more to her disappointment than approval, and lifted himself up to look down at her in worry. "Ve...?" he breathed out, still softly panting in heat. He instantly received a glare from her piercing blue eyes—a weak and hazy glare, but a glare nonetheless.
"G-Germany? What's wrong?" he asked nervously, taking his hands out from underneath her tee to place them on either side of the table.
She got up, leaned on her elbows, and sighed in exasperation, slightly annoyed how she had to explain why she stopped his heated touches. "Can we...not do it here? You know..." Her fist began knocking at the wood beneath them. "...on the coffee table?" He gave her a blank stare, causing her to blush in annoyance over her next choice of words. "I...don't want to be broken on a broken coffee table..." she told him slowly and with much humiliation to how odd those words sounded to her ears.
A blithe chuckle immediately filled the air in response to her odd words. "Of course we're not gonna to do it here," Italy assured her, eliciting a sigh of relief from the flushed girl underneath him. "Besides," he added, his voice lowering to a whisper as he leaned in to nip at her earlobe. "I wouldn't want to lose my virginity on a coffee table, either."
She shivered lightly at the delightful feel of his lips along her ear, her eyes fluttering in heaviness. "Not to mention I wouldn't want to have to buy you a new coffee table," she weakly added.
"Don't worry, Germany," he giggled. "Well, then..." He raised himself off of her slightly and immediately surprised her with a set of straightforward directions. "Wrap your legs around me."
Her brow scrunched for a millisecond. "Excuse me?"
She felt one arm wrapping around her back and the other dragging down the back of her thigh—almost teasing her—to bend her knee and wrap her leg around his waist. "Wrap your legs around me," he repeated in a husky tone, leaving her suddenly willing to acquiesce to odd requests. Just after she reluctantly wrapped her legs around his waist, his hand directed her arms to wrap around his shoulders.
"Okie dokie~ Now..." He paused for a moment to make sure his arms were properly wrapped around her delicate body. "...hold on tight, okay?"
"What?" she asked in alarm to his request.
Germany wasn't given enough time to ponder over such directions as Italy immediately lifted her and himself off the table in brisk movements, holding onto her body with much care as she gasped in shock and sudden anxiety. It seemed more like Germany was grappling onto him than he was carrying her as he started walking—with vivid flashbacks to when he last lifted her in this same house and the way he toppled over after some time, of course she'd be worried at the moment. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, so she didn't have to worry about accidentally strangling him, but her legs instinctively cinched around his waist almost painfully. The subtle feel of asphyxiation around his diaphragm from the iron-grip of her lean legs only increased his adrenaline rush—his mind was suddenly assaulted with vivid fantasies, lewd images of Germany wrapping those same lithe legs around him as he left her writhing in ecstasy. One of his hands dragged beneath her thighs until they reached her bottom, giving a cheek a firm squeeze, evoking sharp protests from the girl grappling him. He needed to get her in his bed immediately.
While Italy fantasized about her in brisk strides towards his bedroom, she held onto him for dear life, praying that he wouldn't topple over the same way he did last time. A great wave of relief spread through her when they completely evaded the staircase and headed instead to a door that led them outdoors—thank goodness, his bedroom mustn't be on the second floor (she was hoping against the slimmest chance that it may be located in a shack in his vineyards or something). As they walked through an illuminated outdoor hallway of arches and hanging plants, the glow of the afternoon sun relaxed her just a little bit more. When he felt her relax her grip on him, he gently spoke in her ear, "Ve...Trust me—I won't let go of you."
Passion and adulation suddenly washed through her at the gentleness of his words, and compelled her to express such with needy kisses and nips all along his neck and his ear. It felt impossible for Italy to continue walking while she assaulted him with these affectionate attacks. Although his bedroom door was literally just another step away, these kisses were making him completely weak in the knees and he definitely didn't want to topple over a second time and risk her getting hurt. Italy took a break right beside his bedroom door and slammed her back onto an adjacent wall, immediately attacking her with a lustful open-mouthed kiss. He breathed in every sigh of approval, relishing in the feel of her fingers fisting his hair and her pelvis grinding wantonly into his stomach. She was hot and needy—she could feel the need pooling in her groin as she sought for delicious friction from his stomach. Italy had come to realize how wild Germany could be—neither of them had any experience, and yet here she was succumbing completely in carnal desire. Seeing her come undone was so extremely alluring to him. His bedroom was just another step away—he needed her in there now.
While his mouth meshed uninterruptedly with hers, his hand reached for the doorknob beside him, twisted it and pushed the door wide open. Upon hearing the quick creaks of his wooden door, he pushed himself off the wall and practically ran inside with her still grappling onto him and assaulting his neck with hot kisses, sighing in his ear in heavy anticipation. His brisk movements could barely register through her hazy senses, but her eyes shot open with a gasp when she felt herself falling swiftly onto an expanse of softness with a delicious weight atop her. She lethargically looked around her, examining her surroundings in a haze as he mouthed mindlessly at her already speckled neck. The afternoon sun partially seeped into his room of soft and simple accents through a large and open window framed in the sides with beige drapes, leaving it bathed in a gentle glow. Somewhere in the distance, she saw a jar atop his dresser filled with white flags, to which she rolled her eyes in incredulity and partial pleasure of his lips behind her ear. She let go of his shoulders and spread her arms across his bed. Although his room was altogether simple, his bed felt extravagantly large. Did he really spend his nights alone in this large bed? No wonder he often snuck into her sheets overnight unannounced. As she tentatively unwrapped her legs from his waist and planted her feet onto the bed, she abruptly stopped, realizing that her boots were still laced on. She leaned on her elbows and lifted herself off the bed in worry that she may soil his sheets. Meanwhile, now that they had successfully made it to his bed without breaking any bones, Italy felt no inclination to stop his affection despite her sudden movement.
"Hey," she called out to him in a soft breath. "Italy, wait a second." She began pushing gently against his shoulder. He pulled away from her with an impatient pout.
"Ve..." he whined pitifully, growing impatient with this constant stopping and starting again. "Germany, what is it?"
"My boots," she pointed out as she weakly began leaning over to reach for its laces. "I don't want to put my boots on your sheets—I'll get them dirty..." The way she was always so worried about all these little insignificant things during a time of unbearable heat struck him as a little tedious, but he also thought it extremely adorable and as expected of Germany. He wouldn't have it any other way.
His arm reached for her hand to stop her movements. He raised himself up and gently pushed her back down, refusing to allow her any more trouble. She narrowed her eyes at him, thinking that he didn't care too much about his sheets being soiled, although that wouldn't surprise her much. Instead, he backed up a little and planted his feet back on the floor, partially hovering over her stomach and further down as his hands dragged down her leg until they reached for the top of her military boots.
"Ve...let me do it for you, signorina" he offered kindly as his fingers began the tedious process of unlacing her military boots. She lifted her upper half up partially, leaning back on both arms as she watched over him. The scene instantly reminded her of their first date together as his "girlfriend" when he blatantly forbade her to walk any longer in her lethal oxfords. After having come a long way from then and now—they practically leaped way ahead after the drama that had occurred earlier—it all seemed like innocent flirtations back then, the way he soothed her sore feet and massaged her with much delicacy and affection. This time, they've advanced to a brand new level of intimacy: he was just beginning the process of undressing her, and the very thought sent shivers down her spine in a mix of virgin bashfulness and heavy anticipation.
Italy had successfully unlaced the first boot and slowly removed it off her foot along with her sock. With one hand, he lifted her foot and placed a deft kiss upon it before moving on to the next boot. He was going so tantalizingly slow, much too slowly for her taste. Despite her tendencies for speed and efficiency, she was actually grateful that he was taking everything so slowly at the moment. Rushing through it could probably only have made her even more nervous and uncertain. Besides, the excruciating pace only left her in an impetuous rush of desire as she waited for him to move on the rest of her clothing.
As his fingers slowly worked through her second set of laces in his usual Latin pace, his big brown eyes suddenly rose to meet her crystal-blue ones in a wistful gaze which left her in self-consciousness. Feeling the heat of embarrassment rising up to her already flushed cheeks, she tore away from his gaze in timidity. As he held her gaze on her flushed cheeks, taking his time to linger on the mars inflicted upon them from a few days ago, and the marks that have only begun to form along her neck, he finally had the second boot undone, slowly slipping it off with her sock. The thudding sound of her last boot brought her attention back to him with a piqued glare.
"Don't just throw my things around your room like they're—ah..."
She stopped short when he began dragging his hands up her olive pants, along her thighs, until his fingers finally reached her belt buckle. His eyes were still on hers, this time as if asking for permission to continue. She reddened madly at the thought of the forthcoming series of events, biting softly at her bottom lip in preparation of his next move.
"Germany...we don't have to do this now," he suddenly advised her, his voice low and uncharacteristically serious.
Her brow furrowed slightly in consideration of his words. Italy was right; they didn't have to do this now. The two of them were more than capable of waiting this out before they could go any further. She recalled his willingness to wait until she returned back to normal before they could go all the way, but with further thought, she had come to realize that it was probably best if they had done it now, this time and this way as it was meant to be done. If they waited until then, neither of them could possibly guarantee that it would just be as pleasurable.
She released her weight on her arms and gently lowered herself back down onto his bed sheets as her hand reached for his on her buckle with a touch that beckoned him to continue. "It's probably best if we do this now," she answered him. It bothered her a little how rushed her response sounded to her ears. She felt Italy tense beneath her touch. Why he chose to be apprehensive now of all times, she didn't know.
"Ve...I don't want to hurt you..."
She sighed—her eyes were glued to the ceiling framed by the iron canopy caging his bed. "If you wait until then, someone is surely going to get hurt," she replied with deeper implications. It was uncertain who it would be, but if they tried this again later on, someone would surely get hurt in the process. Italy knew it, also—he would feel shallow if he chose to make love to her now, but he knew that it would not be as easy if he waited for Ludwig to return to the way he was. When she felt his hands remain idle for another few seconds, she rose off of the mattress and leaned into him, catching him in slight surprise as she met him with a deep and reassuring kiss, one hand brushing soothingly along the nape of his neck. After pulling away, her fingers lingered on his nape while her blue eyes held onto his brown ones as she gave a single nod of approval to him. "It's alright," she whispered against his lips before lowering herself back down to let him continue his job. Italy was more than grateful that she would be gracious enough to let him make love to her as a woman. But even if he knew how much more complicated it would be to make love as men, he wouldn't be too hesitant to commit to the idea, either.
The moment her back touched the mattress, she felt his fingers finally fumbling with her belt buckle. The swift movement of his fingers made it seem like he really wanted her pants off already, but made attempts in hindering his impetuousness so as to savor the moment. The jingling of her buckle and the sound of unzipping reached her ears, leaving her to shut her eyes and lean into the soft sheets in a sudden burst of meekness. She couldn't keep from looking away once she heard Italy call her name again.
"Germany...Lift your hips a little, please?" he asked shyly, his fingers already hooked onto the belt loops of her pants. She swallowed a little in delightful anticipation before acquiescing to his gentle requests. On cue, Italy gently tugged at her belt loops and slowly the rest just followed. She watched him the entire time, her chest heaving pleasantly as his curious hands slowly worked to heighten her excitement. His eyes followed after his hands, taking in every little inch of milky skin that lay furthered exposed to him in every passing second as he uncovered her long, lean legs. The tip of his tongue slowly darted out to lick at his lips which have suddenly gone dry somehow, and the sight made her tremble slightly—his voracity was very easy to see.
After what felt like an excruciating eternity, he finally pulled off one pant leg after another and threw the hindering material somewhere off the side, completely exposing her bottom half, save for the cute pair of lace burgundy boy shorts she still had on. Italy was no less than utterly entranced by the amount of skin he managed to expose at this point if not by the sexy piece of intimates she kept on. The brief and sudden chill that hit her skin planted goosebumps all along her body. Her cheeks were drenched in an extravagant hue of scarlet as his hands began another journey along miles of legs, beginning from her ankles and dragging all the way up her shins, over the knees, and teasing up her thighs. The feel of silk beneath his palms and his fingertips was extremely titillating and compelled his lips to trail behind his curious hands. She trembled heavily when she felt his lips dragging behind his hands, briefly placing a light kiss upon her knee before continuing up her thighs. It was amazing how firm her thighs were—it simply drove him mad to have his mouth all over her like this.
Once those hands reached past her hips and dove underneath her shirt to feel along her stomach again, his mouth took its own initiative, worshipping her thighs so adoringly. Whimpers escaped her throat as she was left helpless to his touches. He brought one of his hands from underneath her shirt and back down beside him to lift at one leg, bending it by the knee and positioning her to open up slowly to him. This feeling of vulnerability washing through her was certainly alarming in accordance with her alert nature, but at the moment, it tasted so delicious. It was only even more so when those same teasing lips dared to drag along the small expanse of her inner thigh, dangerously close to that forbidden and blasted womanhood that never should have been there in the first place.
He didn't just plant butterfly kisses all along there—he planted lewd and wet kisses all along that silky stretch of skin, gently sucking every now and then. The response he received from her was certainly a leap forward—he immediately heard her gasp sharply in surprise and what he hoped to be utter delight. Her fingers clenched at the sheets just beside her head as his teasing mouth left her panting and craving for more—it left her burning just to realize how close his mouth was to her most forbidden areas. Even she couldn't get herself to go past her boundaries—Italy just needed to move his lips a few more inches upwards and...
"Italien..." she whined pitifully, her native tongue suddenly breaking loose in desperation as she threw her head back onto the sheets in a great bout of yearning. She needed more from him and he wasn't quite giving it to her yet. Upon hearing her afflicted sigh of desperation, he knew he wasn't quite giving her enough—he's been dying to know how silky it felt beneath her dresses that he must have been a little preoccupied.
But what to do now?
He wasn't quite sure where to move on to next. Come to think of it, she still had her black tee on—should he remove that next? Or should he just go straight for the panties and dive right in? He pouted against her inner thigh in thought, a wondering "Ve" seeping through his slightly swollen lips.
"Italy," he heard her call out to him again. As he lifted his head from between her legs to meet her eyes, he already noticed her leaning forward to him, immediately reaching for his white shirt. Germany pulled him up by the collar and brought his lips to crash onto hers for the umpteenth time that day as she pulled him back down onto the mattress atop her. As their tongues desperately ran wild for each other, her hands on his shirt relocated to his back where she began fisting the fabric as she clutched at him. Without much warning, she roughly pushed him away so that she could direct a questioning look at him. Italy seemed confused at first, but her eyes immediately drifted down to her hands lingering on the laces and the collar of his white shirt. Normally, she would be very direct with instructions, but times like these just left her in a hazy sense of embarrassment that made her too shy to make such straightforward yet simple commands. For somebody who was normally so slow to read the atmosphere, he immediately got the hint.
Once she let go of his shirt, Italy stood erect on his knees as his hands reached behind his neck and clutched fistfuls of fabric on his shirt. Germany watched him intently as he slowly pulled his shirt above his head and off his body, revealing stretches of tan skin she was oddly so familiar with. It amused her subtly how he chose to leave his iron cross on his person—seeing it contrast with his bare chest set off a soft sense of allure. Multiple times Germany had to deal with this boy in his naked and shameless glory—either sleeping beneath his sheets, or randomly jumping into the shower with him without previous notice, or even running around the countryside for no particular reason. So yes, Germany was actually very familiar with this body, yet this was something completely new to her. The Latin body of lean build that she was familiar with was only from a distance. Most of the time she'd be annoyed rather than admiring, but this time it excited her to know that she could touch and explore this body as much as she pleased, now granted a freedom to further this familiarity to a new, much more intimate level. The thought was nothing short of exciting, if not liberating. They were clearly reaching new heights. The next move was hers to decide.
A/N: i hope two weeks wasn't too long of a wait for you guys (;3;) this week was literally bombarded w/ one test after another D:
anyway, after two weeks i started feeling uncomfortable with the wait, myself...especially since this "chapter" actually ended up longer than i originally intended "OTL but i guess that's not all that bad—now you guys have three smokin' chapters of hot lovemakin' heading your way ;D all those three chapters including this one was originally comprised in one whole chapter, but after it exceeded the word count of chapter 6 (which was, by far, the longest chapter in this fic), i knew it was much too long :\ and i was afraid that, although the sex is smokin', the length might end up boring some of you or make it quicker for you to lose interest, so i'm hoping that splitting them up with cliffhangers in between would only titillate your excitement ;3
soooo about that chapter title...when i thought dictionaries did me justice, a buddy/avid fellow reader who's a native speaker of German says that word doesn't exist in the German dictionary...this is about a week and a half after i post the chapter "OTL i was ready to drown in my pool at that moment ("._.) well, among one of my OCD's is consistency, so either i do this whole thing where i delete the chapter just to re-name and reedit the chapter title and then bring everything up and running again...OR...i'll just leave it as is and admit to my terrible use of German (i think i've already admitted to that earlier -_-)...i don't feel like making my life any more difficult so i'll submit to the latter (;w;) for anyone else who's native tongue is German: you may hunt me down if you wish. at the moment, i am only taking Japanese and Italian, BUT I SWEAR ON MY DEATHBED THAT I WILL ONE DAY TAKE GERMAN! /runs out the house