[This is more like it. Vasquez has been hungry for touch for a long time, but there's nothing like a devouring kiss to ease off some of that need, his fingers curling and wrinkling the dress fabric as he holds it, rocking his hips a little forward because while he's not intending to end up sprawled out on the floor, there are baser impulses in him that are hard to deny.
He doesn't mind at all his shirt and jacket being yanked, almost wishing that she would keep going, so if that's his thought, then he should say something.]
Don't worry about messing up my shirt. If you want to touch skin, I wouldn't mind.
[His words are low, teasing, a hoarse echo of his normal tones as he leans back in, both hands on her hips to hitch her up a little, half like he's tempting her to wrap her legs around him.]
no subject
He doesn't mind at all his shirt and jacket being yanked, almost wishing that she would keep going, so if that's his thought, then he should say something.]
Don't worry about messing up my shirt. If you want to touch skin, I wouldn't mind.
[His words are low, teasing, a hoarse echo of his normal tones as he leans back in, both hands on her hips to hitch her up a little, half like he's tempting her to wrap her legs around him.]