[ She can see him zoning out a bit as she moves, and though she doesn't love it, she knows it's his effort to follow her directive. So she loves him for it, but that doesn't mean she'll accept it. ]
[ Lilting her hips just so, she makes an unrestrained keening sound which soars to all corners of the room and must surely interrupt whatever else he's thinking about. If that doesn't do it, she reaches down to pluck his hand from wherever it's perched and guides it up her body -- the taut planes of her stomach, over her breast, up to her mouth so her tongue and teeth can tease and nip at his fingers, and then she laces her fingers with his from behind his hand so she can hold it fast and gently, slowly bite the inside of his wrist. All the while her hips move at a lazy, legato pace, pressing down hard against him while the muscles inside her coil around him and crest upwards like she's stroking him, and with each movement she purrs her delight. ]
[ She wants him unable to think of anything but her. Her eyes gloam with a soft golden glow and watch him carefully, hoping he'll come around. ]
[ Wrecked is a good look for him, she must say. But when his blood hits her tongue she groans and her hips speed eagerly -- there won't ever be a turn-on as big as tasting how much he wants her, and in this case she gets an echo of those same feelings. She laps at his wrist before placing his hand on her waist, squeezing so his hold is as she likes it. ]
[ She makes a sound like she might have been trying to gasp out a word, and her hips press him down hard each time she moves. She leans forward, lowering herself onto her elbows, her panting mouth close to his. ]
[He catches her mouth in a messy kiss, no concentration left for grace or precision or anything but pure need. Doctor squeezes her tightly, meeting each motion with his own.
He can't call her name like this, but it's there in the flush on his skin, the tang of his blood and desire. Aliza, Aliza, Aliza.]
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Think about not sexy things. Think about medicine. Think about the formulas for medicine. List every ingredient in your head.]
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[ Lilting her hips just so, she makes an unrestrained keening sound which soars to all corners of the room and must surely interrupt whatever else he's thinking about. If that doesn't do it, she reaches down to pluck his hand from wherever it's perched and guides it up her body -- the taut planes of her stomach, over her breast, up to her mouth so her tongue and teeth can tease and nip at his fingers, and then she laces her fingers with his from behind his hand so she can hold it fast and gently, slowly bite the inside of his wrist. All the while her hips move at a lazy, legato pace, pressing down hard against him while the muscles inside her coil around him and crest upwards like she's stroking him, and with each movement she purrs her delight. ]
[ She wants him unable to think of anything but her. Her eyes gloam with a soft golden glow and watch him carefully, hoping he'll come around. ]
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Aliza...
[He squeezes her fingers and rocks up into her, unable to help himself.]
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[ She makes a sound like she might have been trying to gasp out a word, and her hips press him down hard each time she moves. She leans forward, lowering herself onto her elbows, her panting mouth close to his. ]
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He can't call her name like this, but it's there in the flush on his skin, the tang of his blood and desire. Aliza, Aliza, Aliza.]