Eric has never been a patient man, and when there's something he wants, he tends to take it greedily. So, it's no surprise that at the very moment Rosita presses her lips to his that he's taken the hand that was down on the bed and secures a hold on her hip and slides her closer, cutting off her words with another kiss, deeper this time.
As a vampire, there's nothing that stands out that he is. The way he tastes on her tongue is intoxicating, in a way that's almost spellbinding. If she's looking to forget, she called the right person.
"Hm," he sounds contently, shoving the buttoned shirt off one shoulder and then the other. He wants that access to her. All of her. Right now. "That's good to hear. Because I have no patience for clothes."
Eric is very much a fan of being skin to skin and isn't opposed to tearing things off if he has to.
Between that attraction, and the drink, and the exhaustion, and her genuine craving to thi k of nothing, she doesn't stand a chance. She doesn't resist at all but reaches to pull him closer, too, when he draws her in and she's meeting him every bit as enthusiastically until she has to pull away to breathe.
"Don't you rip my fucking clothes," she warns - old practicality, hardwon and imprinted - but she resolves it for them by shrugging her outer shirt the rest of the way off, then stripping her tank top out of the way after. She's not wearing a bra, and there's nothing shy about the way she reaches for his shirt, too.
Then she's kissing him again, drawing her legs under her so she can push up closer to him.
He grunts in protest. Rosita can demand what she wants, but Eric is defiant, through and through. Maybe it doesn't happen this time, but if there's a next and there's enough tension between them, Eric would rather apologize after then ask permission first. To him, there's nothing more satisfying than literally ripping all manner of offensive clothing off someone if it means getting to what's underneath faster.
"You'll be too busy to notice," he points out, voice low and promising, flashing a lecherous smile before it disappears against her mouth again, chasing her tongue and drawing the air from her lungs slowly.
After his shirt is comes off, hands press flat on her hips to slip her loose fitting pants off her waist. But rather fumble awkwardly with getting them the rest of the way off, he winds an arm across her lower back to lift her high enough to move her to lay across the bed. It gives Rosita the room to kick them off and him the space to set down a path of kisses from her collarbone and down over one breast.
"Put your mouth where your - mm," she begins to challenge in return, but she lets herself be cut off, lets herself be drawn in by the deepening kiss and the way she relaxes into it with her entire body.
She's light, and this means she has had no shortage of partners able to move her more or less where they want her on a whim, and in day to day life she hates it; in bed, though, it sends a thrill of pleasure, of want, straight to her belly and she laughs, makes no effort whatsoever to stop him.
She does kick her pants off, and while he explores her neck, her chest, she shivers deliciously but feels her way confidently around the fastenings of his jeans - delaying herself only to slip her fingers beneath the waistband and crook them, pulling her nails lightly up the muscles of his lower abdomen.
"I suppose that's a nice enough way to start," she allows, but she's practically purring. "Maybe too - nice."
That's his cue to take things to the next level and though she can't feel the smile that spreads across her skin, Rosita most definitely will feel it. At her words, he grazes his teeth but doesn't bite and hums a thoughtful note.
"Ohhh, you like things lively, do you?" Eric questions, voice low and wolfish. He hisses in pleasure at her nails while his waist twists and he wiggles enough to get out of his pants. Straightening slightly, between her legs, he runs fingers upwards along the inside of one of her thighs. Instead of linger there, he waits for her to shiver in need before he plunges deep and fast into her. "Better?"
She shivers impatiently under the tease of his teeth, running right along that razors edge where she's afraid for him to bite her - not just him, but anyone - but she craved it once, too.
It's her dirty little secret: she likes it better when they're dangerous.
"I like to know what I'm feeli- fuck!" she gasps, coming halfway up off the bed as she begins to protest his teasing only for him to do that. He'll find her plenty wet already, muscles tightening around his fingers, but in the next moment her swear has melted into a moan and her fingernails are digging into his shoulders.
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no subject
As a vampire, there's nothing that stands out that he is. The way he tastes on her tongue is intoxicating, in a way that's almost spellbinding. If she's looking to forget, she called the right person.
"Hm," he sounds contently, shoving the buttoned shirt off one shoulder and then the other. He wants that access to her. All of her. Right now. "That's good to hear. Because I have no patience for clothes."
Eric is very much a fan of being skin to skin and isn't opposed to tearing things off if he has to.
no subject
"Don't you rip my fucking clothes," she warns - old practicality, hardwon and imprinted - but she resolves it for them by shrugging her outer shirt the rest of the way off, then stripping her tank top out of the way after. She's not wearing a bra, and there's nothing shy about the way she reaches for his shirt, too.
Then she's kissing him again, drawing her legs under her so she can push up closer to him.
no subject
"You'll be too busy to notice," he points out, voice low and promising, flashing a lecherous smile before it disappears against her mouth again, chasing her tongue and drawing the air from her lungs slowly.
After his shirt is comes off, hands press flat on her hips to slip her loose fitting pants off her waist. But rather fumble awkwardly with getting them the rest of the way off, he winds an arm across her lower back to lift her high enough to move her to lay across the bed. It gives Rosita the room to kick them off and him the space to set down a path of kisses from her collarbone and down over one breast.
no subject
She's light, and this means she has had no shortage of partners able to move her more or less where they want her on a whim, and in day to day life she hates it; in bed, though, it sends a thrill of pleasure, of want, straight to her belly and she laughs, makes no effort whatsoever to stop him.
She does kick her pants off, and while he explores her neck, her chest, she shivers deliciously but feels her way confidently around the fastenings of his jeans - delaying herself only to slip her fingers beneath the waistband and crook them, pulling her nails lightly up the muscles of his lower abdomen.
"I suppose that's a nice enough way to start," she allows, but she's practically purring. "Maybe too - nice."
no subject
"Ohhh, you like things lively, do you?" Eric questions, voice low and wolfish. He hisses in pleasure at her nails while his waist twists and he wiggles enough to get out of his pants. Straightening slightly, between her legs, he runs fingers upwards along the inside of one of her thighs. Instead of linger there, he waits for her to shiver in need before he plunges deep and fast into her. "Better?"
no subject
It's her dirty little secret: she likes it better when they're dangerous.
"I like to know what I'm feeli- fuck!" she gasps, coming halfway up off the bed as she begins to protest his teasing only for him to do that. He'll find her plenty wet already, muscles tightening around his fingers, but in the next moment her swear has melted into a moan and her fingernails are digging into his shoulders.
"Keep going," she breathes, voice ragged, eager.