Peter shot a sideways glance upward at Kitty's slim fingers, which were delicately working a soft rope around his wrists. Nice and tight, oddly arousing when it was her doing it, and not some luggy alien that was kidnapping him.
"You're pretty good at this."
Kitty smiled softly. "You have to learn a thing or two when you spend time with Wolverine in Japan..."
Peter's mouth went agape. "Seriously?"
She gave him a dirty look and slapped his belly lightly. "No, you doofus, I was making a joke!"
He giggled and smirked. "Are you going to whip me if I misbehave?"
Kitty rolled her eyes. "How very Justin Timberlake of you."
"Huh?" Peter's smirk turned into a vacuous smile before a slight spark of recognition lit, "the guy from *N Sync?"
Kitty snorted. "I forget your cache of popular references purportedly cuts off somewhere in the 90s."
Peter shrugged, a pathetic looking gesture, considering his wrists dangled above his head. "What can I say?"
She shook her head and shushed him. "You don't have to say anything." She leaned in, giving him a long kiss that left him straining for her when their lips parted. "I already know you're a big dork."
"The biggest!" He thrust his hips upward with what would be a seductive smirk-if he didn't look so silly, flopping around like a fish at the end of a hook.
"Mmmhm." She ran her hand down his chest to the bulge in his pants. She squeezed him firmly, and he practically melted beneath her fingers. Well, except for one part of him, which got much, much harder.
He squirmed a little more needily, but Kitty tutted at his rudderless movement. "Am I going to have to tie your legs down, too?" She grinned toothily, and he whimpered.
"No." She shot her puppy dog eyes, "but do I have to call you mistress or something?"
Kitty rolled her eyes, pulling his coat open, "god, no. Do I look like Emma Frost?"
"I'm sure we could get someone here to make you a bustier." He looked hopeful.
"I am not opposed to various lingerie, but nothing in the vein of the White Queen, please." Content with stroking his chest slowly for the moment, she phased his shirt off, but left his token red jacket on.
The slow teasing caused Peter to reflexively tense his muscles. Kitty ran a single finger down the center of his tightened chest, nail tickling the faint spray of chest hair slightly. Her finger eventually came to rest at his belly button, tapping it once so it made a hollow, thunking noise. Peter giggled.
Her fingers went lower, to the trail of hair that led down like an arrow to his package. He groaned softly, biting his lip in anticipation.
Kitty smiled and shook her head, taking her hand away before it had even reached the first button of his pants. Peter whimpered, and she gave him a warning look.
"Not yet. Please, it all has to be about the build up." She stood up from the bed and walked away, and Peter held in a sad whine, hoping he knew what would come next.
The first thing to go were her panties. The teasing lace, already soaked through a few times over, discarded carelessly from the billowing dress. She must have phased right through them, they seem to float ethereally to the floor.
But it's Kitty who's really ethereal. Spinning lightly on her bare feet, the hint of her naked body swaying and gyrating beneath the airy fabric of her dress, she moved like she was made of the wind and the stars (which, Peter guessed, she kind of is now). But this seemed to be something she'd always been able to do, to dance like the planets move and the galaxies spin.
Nothing about the dance was genuinely sexual, but to see her so enrapt in the dance, opening herself up to him, even if he was tied up, it's an experience. And part of that experience is arousing. Very arousing.
Her padding feet bring her closer to him, then futher, then spinning closer still; fabrics swell in the breeze she creates and the one coming through the open French doors. And suddenly there was no dress and nothing was covering her body at all. The gauzy covering lay discarded on the floor at her pointed toes, phased off.
Her body arced, her breasts swaying slightly, her round hips swung, and she came to the bed. She rested a hand on his face, sitting on the edge, so close, yet so away from him. He strained to kiss her, and she relents. A long kiss on his lips trails down to his jaw, teasing suckling. She moved up to his ear, planting an echoing kiss before sucking his earlobe in to her mouth, toying with it with her tongue. He let out a contented, needy groan.
She pulled away, and straddled him, pussy pressed against his belly button, rocking up towards his abs. Wetness streaks against his stomach, and this time he does strain for real; he can't help it, he simply needs her.
Her legs tensed around his middle, and she phases his jacket off smoothly, still rocking against him, emitting light, feathery moans.
Peter held his breath, trying to hold in a whimpering "please" that still slipped out.
Kitty nodded, watching him lovingly through lidded eyes, a shining smile spreading across her lips. Softly panting, she reached her hands down between her legs, unbuttoning his pants, snaking them and his boxers down. Settling on top of him, she rocked softly. He cooed along with him, tilting his hips when he can, not enough to knock her off her groove, but enough to rub against her, to add friction to her motion.
Peter strained against the ropes, wanting nothing more than to grab her hips, but Kitty tied the knots expertly. She put her hand to his face, rocking faster against him. His body tensed and Peter tried to relax (as much as one can relax during vigorous activities) and let Kitty take control.
Kitty rocked faster, bouncing, her body contorting like she was dancing, straddled on top of him. Peter grunted, no longer able to still his hips, and braced his legs, moving his hips in time with her's. Their bodies twined together, Peter stilled trussed up and flopping, Kitty twisting and curling gracefully around him.
In their odd pas de dux, the two come together, curled in to one another, Peter's legs tented up to support Kitty as she arches down and back in a imagined penché. He pushed up into her, lifting her as her body blurs from flesh into light and stars and love.
They came together, and then Kitty collapsed onto the prone Peter.
After their pants subsided, Peter wiggled a little. "Can you untie me now...? I wanna hold you."
Kitty smiled up blearily at him, "I'll think about it."