Hut-cabin-thing christening

[forthedog]

(continued from here)

It's as he pulls her into the cabin and kicks the door shut that he realizes that he hasn't had her here, not since the change occurred. There's something about a cabin that makes it seem cozier. And more conducive to this.

The interior is dim, lit only by the thin light from the one window, but that doesn't much matter. It's warm, and the pile of quilts that serves as his bed will be even warmer. He drops his jacket heedlessly onto the floor and hooks a hand around her waist, pulling her firmly against him and bending to capture her mouth with his, his other hand cupping her face. "Missed this," he growls.

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[flowers-on-skin.livejournal.com]

It's driving her mad, not being able to touch him, her wrists bound together bouncing against his back as it fucks her, but there's something so exciting about being bound and blindfolded and completely at her mercy. She moans and babbles, making no sese but urging him on, her heels pressing into muscle, clinging to him.