After his hands had made a thorough study of Maria's perfect ass, he brought them up across her thighs, while he caught the front of her tunic playfully in his teeth. He thumbed open the catch of her belt, the look Desmond gave her nothing short of smoldering.
Whatever else was out there beyond the small room didn't matter, nothing else mattered save for Maria's slight weight in his lap, the taste of her lips as he kissed her again, and the warmth of her skin when he rucked up the hem of her tunic and slipped questing fingers beneath.
'The company of women is a dangerous thing,' a fellow sergeant had once told him, quoting from the Rule that governed all of the Templars. The man probably thought he was being helpful, leading a younger brother away from temptation. It was a phrase that came to mind, unbidden, while Desmond's hands had run up against the linen wrappings that bound Maria's breasts. Oh.
"Arms up," he murmured against her mouth. Desmond turned the quote over in his head and resolved to forget it entirely as he lifted her tunic up and off; when he found the linen's edge and started to unwrap her with a certain unashamed, impatient delight. His appreciation was quite obvious elsewhere as well, in the firm press of his hard length against her inner thigh.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2014-08-31 01:25 am (UTC)Whatever else was out there beyond the small room didn't matter, nothing else mattered save for Maria's slight weight in his lap, the taste of her lips as he kissed her again, and the warmth of her skin when he rucked up the hem of her tunic and slipped questing fingers beneath.
'The company of women is a dangerous thing,' a fellow sergeant had once told him, quoting from the Rule that governed all of the Templars. The man probably thought he was being helpful, leading a younger brother away from temptation. It was a phrase that came to mind, unbidden, while Desmond's hands had run up against the linen wrappings that bound Maria's breasts. Oh.
"Arms up," he murmured against her mouth. Desmond turned the quote over in his head and resolved to forget it entirely as he lifted her tunic up and off; when he found the linen's edge and started to unwrap her with a certain unashamed, impatient delight. His appreciation was quite obvious elsewhere as well, in the firm press of his hard length against her inner thigh.