[ Specific memories tied to these motions may be locked away at the moment, but her body knows exactly how to respond. Each kiss brings a glowing pulse to the markings on her chest and she releases a long sigh, pressing her thumbs more roughly on his own markings in turn. Allura allows her eyes to fall shut as she revels in just how good he's making her feel.
When she hears her name and feels his breath against her neck, Alura's eyes flutter back open. She feels a little breathless. There's a warmth between her thighs that begs for her attention as well. All she wants to do is press it against Lance, but she restrains herself to give his question serious consideration.
"Love making"?
Independently, she understands those, she believes. Love, she has remembered over the course of the time they have spent that day, is an inherent trust in another being, a desire to be close to them, to bask in their warmth and affection and return it in kind. Love makes you smile. Lance makes her smile.
But how does one make it? She hadn't thought that she had been doing anything in particular for love to come to be--it simply was in the actions shared between them. With that in mind... ]
Is that not what we have been doing?
[ But she was wrong about sleeping. Worry now rises in her mind as well. Concepts, she feels, she is understanding much better than vocabulary, though the latter has been coming back at an increasing rate as she's spoken with him and listened to others talk, even words in English.
She ushers his head up from her neck so she can look him in the eyes. ]
I'm not sure, but I know that right now I want you to touch me and I want to touch you. I can only believe this is how it's supposed to be because it feels so easy. And familiar. My body knows you. I trust you. Is that not love however you make it?
no subject
When she hears her name and feels his breath against her neck, Alura's eyes flutter back open. She feels a little breathless. There's a warmth between her thighs that begs for her attention as well. All she wants to do is press it against Lance, but she restrains herself to give his question serious consideration.
"Love making"?
Independently, she understands those, she believes. Love, she has remembered over the course of the time they have spent that day, is an inherent trust in another being, a desire to be close to them, to bask in their warmth and affection and return it in kind. Love makes you smile. Lance makes her smile.
But how does one make it? She hadn't thought that she had been doing anything in particular for love to come to be--it simply was in the actions shared between them. With that in mind... ]
Is that not what we have been doing?
[ But she was wrong about sleeping. Worry now rises in her mind as well. Concepts, she feels, she is understanding much better than vocabulary, though the latter has been coming back at an increasing rate as she's spoken with him and listened to others talk, even words in English.
She ushers his head up from her neck so she can look him in the eyes. ]
I'm not sure, but I know that right now I want you to touch me and I want to touch you. I can only believe this is how it's supposed to be because it feels so easy. And familiar. My body knows you. I trust you. Is that not love however you make it?