[ Hei lets her guide his hand back down, fingertips at her zipper. Dipping his head, he kisses her once, a full, sweet, deep kiss. Then he strokes her for just a moment, letting the denim rasp against her mons, the center seam pressing against her clit. Letting her enjoy the damp friction, the heat of his palm. Giving her familiar sensations to hook a foundation on. When he lets the charge play out, at last, it's low and slow, dark and sweet as a pouring of fizzling molasses. He's done this very seldom. Five times, in total. Even with tactical reasons for keeping his powers secret, he's never been heavily reliant on them -- in-field or during recreation. If anything, he treats the ability as part of a private repertoire: like a talent for cracking kneecaps, or a knack for good back-rubs. ]
[ As he continues, he draws his head back a little and regards her. Alert for any hinkiness, any flashes of fear or discomfort. After a beat, he presses a kiss to her forehead. Casually unbuttons and unzips her jeans, slipping his hand between her thighs. He cups her sex through her panties, fingers sliding fluidly between her lips and beginning to stroke. Effervescent, low-level charges dance off his fingertips. Barely anything -- just fizzes of cold-hot sensation along her slickest, most sensitive parts. ]
no subject
[ As he continues, he draws his head back a little and regards her. Alert for any hinkiness, any flashes of fear or discomfort. After a beat, he presses a kiss to her forehead. Casually unbuttons and unzips her jeans, slipping his hand between her thighs. He cups her sex through her panties, fingers sliding fluidly between her lips and beginning to stroke. Effervescent, low-level charges dance off his fingertips. Barely anything -- just fizzes of cold-hot sensation along her slickest, most sensitive parts. ]