juststopped | (no subject)

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ig,
krem

(no subject)

This time, she's going to make sure that they eat dinner. She's got bread in the over, pasta bubbling away - nothing particularly exciting, a similar dish to the one that she'd eaten the first time they ate together. She's dressed comfortably because she's staying at home, in capris and a pretty blouse, barefoot in her kitchen with her hair caught into a braid over one shoulder. She's spent enough time around Krem that she feels entirely comfortable in his company but there's still a flutter of anticipation at knowing that he's on his way.

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"We absolutely do," says Adaline. She hadn't liked to assume that he'd be staying the night, but she's gratified to hear that that's his intention. "Do you want me to get things for you or are you going to forage for yourself?"

"Oh, I suppose I can forage," Krem said. He collected his plate from the table with great aplomb, heading into the kitchen to wash up a little bit. Not set about cleaning--even though Adaline had cooked, which dictated that he ought to offer to do the dishes; he would, but not at the moment.

He opened the growler of beer, humming as he looked for the fruit and the chocolate sauce curiously, casting Adaline glances now and then.

Adaline sits at the table watching him, head tilted on one side, her braid skimmed over her shoulder, arms folded across her chest. She raises one eyebrow as he starts to go through her fridge.

"Do you want to eat at the table?"

"That does seem the easiest way to clean up, don't you think?"

He said it nonchalantly, finding strawberries in her fridge and smiling brightly. They were dark red, even for the season, and he was once again smitten with Darrow all over just for out of season fruit.

He bit into one. It was moist and rich, full of sweet juice that burst on his tongue. He purred brightly, smiling, then grabbed a handful of the strawberries out of their container to cut into quarters.

"Oh, definitely."

She picks up her wine glass and takes another swallow, watching him move around her kitchen, enjoying him in her space. "Eating in bed always makes a dreadful mess."

Krem finished cutting the strawberries, casually sucking the juice off his fingers. Even then, they had left his fingers and knuckles a little red from juice. It was a prophecy, probably, but that was just more reason to stay out here where things would be easier to clean up.

He grabbed a couple more whole berries, and returned to the kitchen with the beer and the berries and the chocolate.

"I figured, when you're ready for your ice cream, you could get that. So it wouldn't melt." He offered her one of the whole berries, held delicately between his fingers up to her lips.

A little shiver goes through her as she leans in and bites the fruit, juice and sweetness exploding in her mouth as her lips brush against his fingers.

"You're very sensible," she says, shielding her mouth with her fingers as she chews.

"Oh, I do try to be." He drizzled on of the berries with chocolate sauce, letting it get on his fingers, before lifting it to his mouth. He hummed demonstratively as he bit into it, focusing on the berry before licking and sucking his fingers clean.

That's obscene and Adaline stares, watching the dart of his tongue against his fingers. There's a sudden rush of heat between her legs and she feels her face flush.

"Mmhm."

Krem pretended like he was not fully aware of the way Adaline's eyes were tracking him. He decked a second strawberry in chocolate, and ate it like the first, practically moaning at the taste.

When he focused at Adaline after a moment, he smiled at her gently.

"I'm sorry," he murmured with a smirk. "Am I distracting you?"

"Entirely," she says, with a sharply arched eyebrow. She leans back in her chair, folding her arms under her breasts. "And you know it."

Krem kept up that smile as he lifted from his chair. He grabbed the growler and drank directly from it, savoring the rich, dark taste of the beer as he circled around the table to Adaline, until he stood behind her.

Gently, he pushed her braid over her shoulder so her neck was exposed.

"I suppose," he murmured as he leaned in and brushed his mouth against her throat, "I ought to properly distract you then."

Adaline lets her head tip back against Krem's shoulder, her hand slipping back to graze against his thigh as he kisses her neck. Here, the height difference actually seems to be useful.

"I'm always open to distractions," she says, her voice gone a little breathy.

Krem hummed gently against the skin of Adaline's neck, nuzzling and kissing, enjoying the soft smell of her skin and hair. He brought his hands around to the front of her blouse, hesitant for a moment before he slowly began to pluck at her buttons. He went slowly, giving her time to protest or tell him off between each one he undid. After all, he would hate to ruin a perfectly good evening because of his forwardness; he didn't think he was, though, and he rather thought he was being a bit demure, all things considered and compared to their last dates.

Adaline makes absolutely no move to stop him. She reaches back, both of her hands grazing his thighs, which arches her back slightly, pushes her breasts forward as he unbuttons her blouse. Her bra is pretty, black lace embroidered with tiny flowers in spring colours.

Krem sighed against her ear gently, pulling her blouse out from being tucked into her capris and sliding it off her arms--regretting the disruption in her light, teasing touches to his thighs--before he unclasped the back of her bra and slid that off as well--another brief disruption in her touch. It left her deliciously topless, and him free to hold the weight of her breasts, one in each hand.

He squeezed, gentle for the moment, smoothing his thumbs over her nipples coaxingly. It was all a tease of a touch, at the moment. He knew she liked more firmness, but he wasn't inclined to give her that just yet.

"You look positively delectable, Adaline," he murmured against the side of her neck.

"Good enough to eat?" she asks, smiling, her back still arched enough to press her breasts into his hands as he squeezes, gently, almost teasing. She knows that he tends towards touches different from this but, right then, she doesn't find herself inclined to hurry him.

"Mmn, I could definitely go for a taste," he murmured, brushing his kisses down to her shoulder, where he pressed his mouth gently to the lean muscle that connected her neck to her torso. He curled her fingers gently under the swell of her breasts, taking the whole weight of her breasts in his hands, and then squeezing both her breasts roughly.

"Perfect compliment to the chocolate sauce, I think," he murmured against her skin, leaning over her to grab the chocolate drizzle and the strawberries. "Don't you?"

She's known where this was going for a while and she doesn't attempt to stop him, just lifting herself to his mouth, his hands, biting her lip when his touch turns a little rougher.

"You know, I don't think anyone's ever tried before."

"You should probably be lying down, though," Krem continued to murmur against her skin. He could lift her, definitely; put her on the table, push her back gently, even strip her of the rest of her clothing. But he was also having being a tease.

"I suppose I ought to deal with the dishes then, while you take care of that."

"Really?" asks Adaline, almost a little irritated by how much she craves him, right then. A little irritated with herself, even as she's breathless and wanting, her nipples hard under his touch.

"Still in here?" she asks. "And how much of a serving surface is sir going to want?"

He kissed her shoulder, her neck, up to her ear, like he might sooth any irritation she had just with his mouth alone. He thought he could make a fairly admirable attempt at it, anyway.

"Of course in here; we already discussed the clean up. And as much as the lady wishes to provide me," he whispered against the shell of her ear, and then he pulled away from her.

He collected her dirty dishes and left the table to take them to the kitchen. It gave him a breath to compose himself, to approach how he was going to go about this. Like his own dishes, he gave Adaline's a perfunctory wash and then left them in the sink for now. He'd deal with them later.

Adaline draws in a soft, frustrated breath and then she stands up, topless in her kitchen. She pauses, for a moment and then she strips off her capris but leaves her panties on - he can peel them off if he wants to. The table is sold, scarred, bought in replacement of the slightly more flimsy thing that had been there when she moved in. She hops up to sit on it and then lies back, arranging herself gracefully, propped up on her elbows as she watches him.

He returned to her nonchalantly, removing his shirt and binder on the way, like that made some sort of difference in this whole mess of things. Really, he just liked the idea of showering her with attention and that she might scrape her fingers teasingly against his skin in the midst of it, with no barrier to stop her.

At the side of the table, he picked up the chocolate sauce, considering the bottle of it contemplatively for a moment, and then Adaline's soft, fair skin. Slowly, he tilted her chin back so there was a sloping line from her head to her hips.

"Are you particularly fond of these panties, or should I take them off for you?"

Adaline let him arrange her how he wanted to and then she shook her head, lifting her hips slightly against the surface of the table.

"You can do what you want with my panties," she says.