[ Honestly, it's doubtful she's even vaguely worried about roommates walking in at this point. Or if she'd even mind. (Of course she'd mind, since she'd be way embarrassed about all of this, but right now she's not even thinking about that possiblity, that threat hanging above their head. Which is saying a lot as to how lost she is in all of this, considering Ange is all about weighing risks and being extremely careful so to not set herself up for failure happiness-wise, no matter how little it might show on her face most of the time.)
Right now all she can think about is him, especially when his kisses move lower before going across her neck. It's nothing she's ever experienced before, and it's not really anything she's heard of before, considering how little experience she has with these things or with most information from outside of her own little isolated world.
But it feels good. It feels so terribly good that her breath hitches for a moment when his lips travel over her skin until they return to her own lips, and she practically hungrily starts to kiss him back.
Maybe she's a little too eager, and there's a small voice in the back of her mind that whispers that she should hold back, but she's opting to ignore it for the moment.
Kissing him in return, Ange's hand travels up into his hair - as her fingers intertwine with the strands, she manages to clench down so she's holding onto a sizable chunk of it. Not tightly enough to hurt, but it's almost looming like some sort of threat, like a sign that she isn't going to just accept this passively (because it hurts some vaguely prideful part of her, and because this feels much more exciting when it's like a competition, like a near-battle) and has all the power literally in her hand right now to make him suffer if she'd want to.
Not that she's going to, not while it's like this. This feels way too good, enough to make her feel slightly dizzy. ]
[Even if Arakita didn't naturally pick up on body language, the way her breath hitches like that and the tensing of her muscles beneath her skin tells him everything he wanted to know. Before, the cloud of nervousness hanging over him was blocking instinct, and the possibility of Completely Fucking This Up seemed to be trailing behind every motion he made.
But she liked it, even if it wasn't smooth or graceful. She actually likes this- all of this. He's doing this right on both counts, because this, the kissing and that hand in his hair, feels really good- really, really good. So this is kissing, this is being actually close to the person you like, feeling them under your hands and making out with them until you're senseless without giving a damn about who could be seeing you right now.
It's not the full floodgates that are opening now, but Arakita definitely lets his gut instinct back into it's rightful place of dictating what he does here. He doesn't hold back a quiet, pleased murmur in between kisses when he feels fingers pushing apart his hair... nor is the catch in his breath hidden in the slightest when that same hand tightens its grip around the strands.
...Shit, does this feeling have him thinking weird shit, his gut telling him to push forward into those impulsive thoughts. She's digging fingers into his hair with the intent to pull and he realizes that he doesn't mind the idea of it at all, as the thought of it crosses his racing mind briefly. It's both a leash for those impulsive desires and a signal for him to make his move in this embarrassed competition they have going here. Contradictory, but he'll roll with it. He likes it that way; it's true to his nature.
Hands just resting around her waist suddenly aren't enough now. Instead, they wrap around her body to pull her close to him- the distance between their chests is reduced from inches to more or less pressing together. Without missing a beat while fully being aware that maybe taking two steps ahead is pushing it, he tilts his head and opens his mouth into the kiss to deepen it in what he's heard (and, well, seen, a lot of what he's doing is from what he's seen) feels even better than keeping their kiss on the surface.
[ Maybe it is all going a little bit too hard and fast right now. But Ange's mind doesn't feel like occupying itself with little matters like that - not right now. Not when she can suddenly feel his chest pressing against her own (rather hard, considering how difficult it is to make the distance between the two of them smaller when Ange is pretty filled out up front), his lips widening until they part and there's just his mouth.
Ange doesn't know a lot about this, but even so, she tries to match. She moves right along, parting her own lips as well. The small sounds that keep escaping her now directly flow into his mouth.
It's a little embarrassing, she thinks, she she doesn't relinquish her hold on him in the slightest. Even if it means there's no way they can pretend anything but what they're doing right now was going on if someone does walk in to see this. ]
[Having been so focused on getting the exact motion of opening his mouth just slightly, just how close they are now and the sudden extra warmth between them doesn't register until after he's processed how good it felt to have her reciprocate his motion. His grip tightens around it and he doesn't restrain his own exhale of pleasure when he feels it.
Moreover, given how he's made of hard angle and bony muscle, it somewhat surprises him in his foggy state of mind that the feeling of her chest against his isn't as uncomfortable as it could be were she like him in that regard. Instead, it's very soft and warm, because-- oh. Oh.
Hopefully they're not close enough for Ange to feel Arakita's heartbeat spike up to about 30 more beats per minute (unlikely).
He's eager and willing without reservations at this point, yes, but that doesn't translate to being skilled or practiced. So for as much as the feeling of her lips (open lips), chest pressed up against him and those very pleasing noises coming from in between their lips are distracting him (and they are very, very distracting, mind you, his blood can't decide if it needs to rush to his brain, heart or elsewhere), the need for air outweighs all of it. Breathing from his nose is not a technique he's mastered just yet.
Disconnecting their lips reluctantly, he immediately finds himself staring at her with what's probably a very anticipatory stare in addition to remaining that lovely tomato color he's been sporting since the first kiss between them. Before speaking he swallows hard.]
How much do-
[What was clearly going to be a question is cut off suddenly and he averts his stare while furrowing his eyebrows. Whatever it was is transformed into a mumble under his breath, and to "seal" the issue, he diverts the use of his mouth to back on her neck and kisses it with much more firmness than the last, teeth occasionally skating over her skin and "threatening" to press in.
...Then again, if he really to avoid talking, he should have kissed her in such a way where she couldn't talk.]
[ As much as she enjoys this, there's something about the question being cut off like that that bugs her. Not that she really blames him - he's looking so very red, and Ange is entirely sure that she's looking exactly the same. If she were to say anything particularly important now, she'd probably stumble over her words too. It's the very reason she's not doing it to begin with.
But he did begin with it and then cut himself off and.. well, of course it annoys her. She wants to know what he's saying, and the fact that his lips are back against the skin of her neck doesn't help. It's a momentary distraction, but rather than fully distract her it just delays the inevitable as a soft sound escapes her mouth. There's something about that feeling of teeth scraping against her skin lightly that feels so good, and for a moment she's tempted to drop the matter.
But that wouldn't be like her. She's stubborn, she's curious, even in this situation. So after a few moments of him planting his lips on her throat, her free hand grabs onto his collar, tugging a little on there to grab his attention. ]
How much.. what? [ She can't sound very threatening though, as out of breath as she is, but she sure is trying. ] At least finish your sentence, moron..
[ The only people who would call the person making out with them an idiot, really. ]
[It's probably cowardly, he thinks for a moment, to be speaking more or less into her neck instead of directly at her. He doesn't like the idea of it but when his head is as clouded with anticipation and hormones as it is right now he can tolerate it for the time being.
It's not so much speaking into her ear as quietly speaking right next to it when he does talk, having finally been tugged around enough by her to stop his firm, eager kisses into the skin of her neck. Not that he exactly minds, discomfort around bringing up the topic again notwithstanding, because she's still standing up to him even while all of this is going on between them. In theory, the move probably sounds smooth. In actuality, the delivery (his voice) is grumbled, shaky and breathless.]
...You don't get it? How much-- Tch, how far do you wanna, you know, go?
[How awkward that question was, in both content and execution on his part (especially when she's being forward on all fronts by continuing to tug him around like this despite being just as mentally occupied as him), only hits him a moment after he's gone back to kissing- and at this point lightly pressing his teeth into her skin every other kiss with just enough pressure before it starts leaving a mark. He physically recoils from the "shit, I fucked saying that up" that crosses his mind, his teeth pressing in just a little as a result.
But he said it, so he's going to commit; no backing down from the guy who's life philosophy is to move forward into unknown territory. Even with his complete lack of experience and resulting reliance on hormones and bravery to continue on, he knows they're moving very, very fast here- not that he minds in the slightest or regrets any of it; the desire to continue onward would outweigh any hesitancy in the end. But even in this hazed and addled state he remembers her outburst from before to the suggestion of any of this and the last thing he wants is to have her reacting like that again (even if the circumstances are much different now). Better ask, before his hands, say, snake lower or further up.
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Right now all she can think about is him, especially when his kisses move lower before going across her neck. It's nothing she's ever experienced before, and it's not really anything she's heard of before, considering how little experience she has with these things or with most information from outside of her own little isolated world.
But it feels good. It feels so terribly good that her breath hitches for a moment when his lips travel over her skin until they return to her own lips, and she practically hungrily starts to kiss him back.
Maybe she's a little too eager, and there's a small voice in the back of her mind that whispers that she should hold back, but she's opting to ignore it for the moment.
Kissing him in return, Ange's hand travels up into his hair - as her fingers intertwine with the strands, she manages to clench down so she's holding onto a sizable chunk of it. Not tightly enough to hurt, but it's almost looming like some sort of threat, like a sign that she isn't going to just accept this passively (because it hurts some vaguely prideful part of her, and because this feels much more exciting when it's like a competition, like a near-battle) and has all the power literally in her hand right now to make him suffer if she'd want to.
Not that she's going to, not while it's like this. This feels way too good, enough to make her feel slightly dizzy. ]
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But she liked it, even if it wasn't smooth or graceful. She actually likes this- all of this. He's doing this right on both counts, because this, the kissing and that hand in his hair, feels really good- really, really good. So this is kissing, this is being actually close to the person you like, feeling them under your hands and making out with them until you're senseless without giving a damn about who could be seeing you right now.
It's not the full floodgates that are opening now, but Arakita definitely lets his gut instinct back into it's rightful place of dictating what he does here. He doesn't hold back a quiet, pleased murmur in between kisses when he feels fingers pushing apart his hair... nor is the catch in his breath hidden in the slightest when that same hand tightens its grip around the strands.
...Shit, does this feeling have him thinking weird shit, his gut telling him to push forward into those impulsive thoughts. She's digging fingers into his hair with the intent to pull and he realizes that he doesn't mind the idea of it at all, as the thought of it crosses his racing mind briefly. It's both a leash for those impulsive desires and a signal for him to make his move in this embarrassed competition they have going here. Contradictory, but he'll roll with it. He likes it that way; it's true to his nature.
Hands just resting around her waist suddenly aren't enough now. Instead, they wrap around her body to pull her close to him- the distance between their chests is reduced from inches to more or less pressing together. Without missing a beat while fully being aware that maybe taking two steps ahead is pushing it, he tilts his head and opens his mouth into the kiss to deepen it in what he's heard (and, well, seen, a lot of what he's doing is from what he's seen) feels even better than keeping their kiss on the surface.
...It immediately works for him, at least.]
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Ange doesn't know a lot about this, but even so, she tries to match. She moves right along, parting her own lips as well. The small sounds that keep escaping her now directly flow into his mouth.
It's a little embarrassing, she thinks, she she doesn't relinquish her hold on him in the slightest. Even if it means there's no way they can pretend anything but what they're doing right now was going on if someone does walk in to see this. ]
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Moreover, given how he's made of hard angle and bony muscle, it somewhat surprises him in his foggy state of mind that the feeling of her chest against his isn't as uncomfortable as it could be were she like him in that regard. Instead, it's very soft and warm, because-- oh. Oh.
Hopefully they're not close enough for Ange to feel Arakita's heartbeat spike up to about 30 more beats per minute (unlikely).
He's eager and willing without reservations at this point, yes, but that doesn't translate to being skilled or practiced. So for as much as the feeling of her lips (open lips), chest pressed up against him and those very pleasing noises coming from in between their lips are distracting him (and they are very, very distracting, mind you, his blood can't decide if it needs to rush to his brain, heart or elsewhere), the need for air outweighs all of it. Breathing from his nose is not a technique he's mastered just yet.
Disconnecting their lips reluctantly, he immediately finds himself staring at her with what's probably a very anticipatory stare in addition to remaining that lovely tomato color he's been sporting since the first kiss between them. Before speaking he swallows hard.]
How much do-
[What was clearly going to be a question is cut off suddenly and he averts his stare while furrowing his eyebrows. Whatever it was is transformed into a mumble under his breath, and to "seal" the issue, he diverts the use of his mouth to back on her neck and kisses it with much more firmness than the last, teeth occasionally skating over her skin and "threatening" to press in.
...Then again, if he really to avoid talking, he should have kissed her in such a way where she couldn't talk.]
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But he did begin with it and then cut himself off and.. well, of course it annoys her. She wants to know what he's saying, and the fact that his lips are back against the skin of her neck doesn't help. It's a momentary distraction, but rather than fully distract her it just delays the inevitable as a soft sound escapes her mouth. There's something about that feeling of teeth scraping against her skin lightly that feels so good, and for a moment she's tempted to drop the matter.
But that wouldn't be like her. She's stubborn, she's curious, even in this situation. So after a few moments of him planting his lips on her throat, her free hand grabs onto his collar, tugging a little on there to grab his attention. ]
How much.. what? [ She can't sound very threatening though, as out of breath as she is, but she sure is trying. ] At least finish your sentence, moron..
[ The only people who would call the person making out with them an idiot, really. ]
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It's not so much speaking into her ear as quietly speaking right next to it when he does talk, having finally been tugged around enough by her to stop his firm, eager kisses into the skin of her neck. Not that he exactly minds, discomfort around bringing up the topic again notwithstanding, because she's still standing up to him even while all of this is going on between them. In theory, the move probably sounds smooth. In actuality, the delivery (his voice) is grumbled, shaky and breathless.]
...You don't get it? How much-- Tch, how far do you wanna, you know, go?
[How awkward that question was, in both content and execution on his part (especially when she's being forward on all fronts by continuing to tug him around like this despite being just as mentally occupied as him), only hits him a moment after he's gone back to kissing- and at this point lightly pressing his teeth into her skin every other kiss with just enough pressure before it starts leaving a mark. He physically recoils from the "shit, I fucked saying that up" that crosses his mind, his teeth pressing in just a little as a result.
But he said it, so he's going to commit; no backing down from the guy who's life philosophy is to move forward into unknown territory. Even with his complete lack of experience and resulting reliance on hormones and bravery to continue on, he knows they're moving very, very fast here- not that he minds in the slightest or regrets any of it; the desire to continue onward would outweigh any hesitancy in the end. But even in this hazed and addled state he remembers her outburst from before to the suggestion of any of this and the last thing he wants is to have her reacting like that again (even if the circumstances are much different now). Better ask, before his hands, say, snake lower or further up.
Easy, boy.]