Her shyness hasn’t exactly melted away – he can still feel the hesitancy in her motions, the pause before she speaks while she weighs her words. She’s thinking too hard. She’s treating it like a test. But she’s trying, and the determination is brightening the flush in her cheeks, pushing her to ignore her urge to run or yelp or step back and instead, leap forwards.
And he is holding her close against him. This is no way for a man of his age to behave, but there’s a good few layers of liquor and lust between should and could here, and the part of Raul that’s still twenty-six and unscarred is telling him that for tonight, can is good enough.
“Gabriella.” He pulls her upright, but does not release his grip on her. Her hands are splayed across his chest and there’s uncertainty and excitement in her eyes. She’s nervous. He can feel her trembling in his arms, but he’s not going to relent. Anything, she said. Whatever it takes. Though really, this has long since stopped being about getting her to relax. “I want to take you out of this place. Continue our lessons somewhere...private.”
She makes a sound in her throat. It might me a gasp and it might be a groan but there’s one thing it’s not, and that’s reluctant. Her fingers tighten a little on his shirt, and he marvels, for a moment, that this is happening. That he is having this effect. He’s expecting his luck to run out any moment, but damn if he isn’t going to chase it.
“Lots of empty rooms upstairs right now,” he says, with his lips close to hers. For a moment, he imagines he sees her edge forward a little. “You and me both handy with a lock pick. You’ve only gotta say the word, mi querida, and I’ll take you out of here.” There is an instant where he is sure she is going to say no, that this has gone too far. Then –
“Yes.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
He learnt a long time ago how to keep the mood on the awkward treks to a more secluded venue. He keeps his hand on her back, and presses a finger to her lips before they leave Brimstone. Less chance for either of them to say anything that could break the spell if they’re both silent. As they enter the elevator, his hand ghosts from her back to her hips, and when the doors close, he spins her fluidly against him, breathing her in. She looks dizzy and she’s still trembling a little, but her eyes are fixed on his, and there’s a coy little smile on her lips.
She’s the one who grabs his hand and drags him out of the elevator. They come across a suitable looking room, and stop. He moves her behind him – unnecessary, but he still feels her hands come to rest just below his shoulders – and knocks on the door. When no one answers, he sets to work.
The room is, thankfully, empty. Anything else and this would have been ruined, but Raul is sure that Lady Luck and the gods of fortune and whatever else is up there is smiling down on him tonight. He still doesn’t know where this is going, where it’s all going to lead, but Gabrielle’s hand is soft and small in his as he pulls her into the room and shuts the door behind them. He wants to throw her onto the bed right now, he wants to rip that pretty pink dress off her and make her beg for him. But he won’t. He won’t, unless he knows that’s exactly what she wants.
They are close again – they seem to have spent all of this evening close. He can feel her breath against his neck, and gently tilts her face upwards.
“What did you –“ she begins, and pauses. Her voice sounds strangled, though he isn’t sure if it’s by nerves or desire – “what did you have in mind for this – this private lesson?”
He bends down a little, so that when he speaks, his lips will touch hers. “That’s up to you. You’re the boss.”
No School Like Old School 6a/7
Her shyness hasn’t exactly melted away – he can still feel the hesitancy in her motions, the pause before she speaks while she weighs her words. She’s thinking too hard. She’s treating it like a test. But she’s trying, and the determination is brightening the flush in her cheeks, pushing her to ignore her urge to run or yelp or step back and instead, leap forwards.
And he is holding her close against him. This is no way for a man of his age to behave, but there’s a good few layers of liquor and lust between should and could here, and the part of Raul that’s still twenty-six and unscarred is telling him that for tonight, can is good enough.
“Gabriella.” He pulls her upright, but does not release his grip on her. Her hands are splayed across his chest and there’s uncertainty and excitement in her eyes. She’s nervous. He can feel her trembling in his arms, but he’s not going to relent. Anything, she said. Whatever it takes. Though really, this has long since stopped being about getting her to relax. “I want to take you out of this place. Continue our lessons somewhere...private.”
She makes a sound in her throat. It might me a gasp and it might be a groan but there’s one thing it’s not, and that’s reluctant. Her fingers tighten a little on his shirt, and he marvels, for a moment, that this is happening. That he is having this effect. He’s expecting his luck to run out any moment, but damn if he isn’t going to chase it.
“Lots of empty rooms upstairs right now,” he says, with his lips close to hers. For a moment, he imagines he sees her edge forward a little. “You and me both handy with a lock pick. You’ve only gotta say the word, mi querida, and I’ll take you out of here.”
There is an instant where he is sure she is going to say no, that this has gone too far. Then –
“Yes.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
He learnt a long time ago how to keep the mood on the awkward treks to a more secluded venue. He keeps his hand on her back, and presses a finger to her lips before they leave Brimstone. Less chance for either of them to say anything that could break the spell if they’re both silent. As they enter the elevator, his hand ghosts from her back to her hips, and when the doors close, he spins her fluidly against him, breathing her in. She looks dizzy and she’s still trembling a little, but her eyes are fixed on his, and there’s a coy little smile on her lips.
She’s the one who grabs his hand and drags him out of the elevator. They come across a suitable looking room, and stop. He moves her behind him – unnecessary, but he still feels her hands come to rest just below his shoulders – and knocks on the door. When no one answers, he sets to work.
The room is, thankfully, empty. Anything else and this would have been ruined, but Raul is sure that Lady Luck and the gods of fortune and whatever else is up there is smiling down on him tonight. He still doesn’t know where this is going, where it’s all going to lead, but Gabrielle’s hand is soft and small in his as he pulls her into the room and shuts the door behind them. He wants to throw her onto the bed right now, he wants to rip that pretty pink dress off her and make her beg for him. But he won’t. He won’t, unless he knows that’s exactly what she wants.
They are close again – they seem to have spent all of this evening close. He can feel her breath against his neck, and gently tilts her face upwards.
“What did you –“ she begins, and pauses. Her voice sounds strangled, though he isn’t sure if it’s by nerves or desire – “what did you have in mind for this – this private lesson?”
He bends down a little, so that when he speaks, his lips will touch hers. “That’s up to you. You’re the boss.”