[ it finally hits her about one second before he speaks what that look in his eyes means, its familiarity and the context finally slotting into a place where it all makes sense. she doesn't color easily — her skin isn't nearly fair enough for it — but she can feel her cheeks and ears heat up as if she did anyway, as her displeasure with the uniform shifts into one of intrigue.
rather than approach him as he asks, she just turns in her place, movements slow as if to give him a full view anyway. her hands come up to her hips, right above the obnoxious flare of the too-short skirt. ]
You look hungry, Kovaca. I thought you already had breakfast?
[ he can see in her expression how he's possibly worked wonders in distracting her from her frustrated predicament. it's always a fun game to steer her concerns to where her annoyance lies blatantly with him, if only because he knows plenty of ways to lift up her mood again.
and he knows he has her attention, because even if she doesn't listen to him in getting closer, he can read the shift of her body with that slow turn that suggests she's doing that just for him.
with a held smirk, he continues watching her, leaning back just enough to steady himself with his elbows to the mattress, like he's getting comfortable being right where he is. either that, or he's trying to get a better look under her skirt. ]
Cereal was too sugary. You sure this is for a clinic?
[ annoyance wouldn't exactly be the accurate term for what marta's feeling right now, kovacs' tactics (as creative as they are sincere) effectively drawing her away from any semblance of ill feeling with the all-too-casual way he leans back on his arms, the slowly building simmer in his eyes. ]
You think I got a job somewhere else?
[ there is a lilt to her brow and her tone that seems to dare him to finish that thought, see where the implication lands him. but there's really only mirth dancing around in her brown eyes, punctuated by the way she makes her hips sway very obviously when she finally comes closer.
her knees bump against the mattress, but she doesn't stop there. the skirt flares out naturally so there's no need to lift it like she does when she begins to climb onto the bed, a knee coming to settle on either side of his hips. she stays up on those knees, enjoying the rare view of being up higher than him. ]
[ he recognizes that tone, one that's been used on him again and again, for all the ways that marta knows how to talk to him better than anyone. she can tell when he's being snide, when there's a deadpan remark of humor ready down the line in conversation, the kind that often gets him on anyone's nerves, and he'd lie if he ever said he didn't enjoy the way she knows how to dodge and play around it, like she knows how to tug the leash.
and he loves it when she does.
her hips are a distraction from her question, the flare of the skirt punctuating the sway of those movements even further, letting him watch carefully at every step that brings her closer to the bed, silent as she climbs up to hover over him.
he meets her eyes like a quiet challenge, lips bearing their usual mischief as he brings up a hand to carefully slide over the front of her thigh beneath a skirt that does little to cover her, feeling out the material of the stocking, thumb stroking slow as if to test how thin it is for her to feel that direct touch. ]
Still not close enough for me to tell. Crawl up a little more and I can give you the full inspection.
[ she remembers how, in the beginning, when they first decided to give this thing between them a chance, she would wake up to the feel of his body pressed up against hers, holding her breath for a few seconds as if that might somehow ensure he doesn't disappear. it's a foolish thing, to build dreams off of dreams themselves, where nothing is tangible and can get torn away at any second—
but marta hasn't been this happy in a long time, either. far from the practical, rational decisions she's always tried to make in her past, if temporary is all she's given here, she'll take it.
anything for another few seconds longer to see this man smile at her. ]
A full inspection? That sounds ambitious on an empty stomach.
[ doesn't stop her from moving though. even with his hand on her thigh she shifts several inches more until his hand has nowhere else to go by be up against swell of her hip, until the hem of that skirt is left tickling his neck and chin. one hand still rests on her other hip, but the other drifts down to trace the sharp angles of his jaw. her fingers are soft in their touch until they're not, grabbing the bottom of his chin to tilt his head further back so he can look right up at her.
for the record? the stockings are ridiculously thin. she feels every inch of his touch. ]
[ all of this has been threatened to be taken away plenty of times now — accidents on missions, lost memories, return trips back home, kovacs' own cursed fate to lose everything he's ever loved. sometimes, it's easy to forget about how much they've given to get here, if only because the very idea of wanting to be with her is easy.
his fingers touching her now be daring and playful in the moment, but he'd do the torment and torture of the past year and some all over again just to make sure he ends up right back here, resting on this bed with the salvation of her touch right against his chin.
with the demanding tilt she gives him to face her, he follows that silent instruction to meet her eyes, the stare focused and attentive, lustful and longing all at once. the kind that says i'd fight my way through hell to meet your eyes like this. ]
Won't be empty for long. Not with the meal I'll be having.
[ his fingers maintain their slow pace, not with hesitation but with intent, as he curves his palm inward along her thigh, gradually slipping higher and higher until his thumb can be brush right against the apex, nudging a firm but slow dragging stroke where he can feel her panties beneath the stocking. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
rather than approach him as he asks, she just turns in her place, movements slow as if to give him a full view anyway. her hands come up to her hips, right above the obnoxious flare of the too-short skirt. ]
You look hungry, Kovaca. I thought you already had breakfast?
no subject
[ he can see in her expression how he's possibly worked wonders in distracting her from her frustrated predicament. it's always a fun game to steer her concerns to where her annoyance lies blatantly with him, if only because he knows plenty of ways to lift up her mood again.
and he knows he has her attention, because even if she doesn't listen to him in getting closer, he can read the shift of her body with that slow turn that suggests she's doing that just for him.
with a held smirk, he continues watching her, leaning back just enough to steady himself with his elbows to the mattress, like he's getting comfortable being right where he is. either that, or he's trying to get a better look under her skirt. ]
Cereal was too sugary. You sure this is for a clinic?
no subject
You think I got a job somewhere else?
[ there is a lilt to her brow and her tone that seems to dare him to finish that thought, see where the implication lands him. but there's really only mirth dancing around in her brown eyes, punctuated by the way she makes her hips sway very obviously when she finally comes closer.
her knees bump against the mattress, but she doesn't stop there. the skirt flares out naturally so there's no need to lift it like she does when she begins to climb onto the bed, a knee coming to settle on either side of his hips. she stays up on those knees, enjoying the rare view of being up higher than him. ]
Go ahead. Tell me what I really look like.
no subject
and he loves it when she does.
her hips are a distraction from her question, the flare of the skirt punctuating the sway of those movements even further, letting him watch carefully at every step that brings her closer to the bed, silent as she climbs up to hover over him.
he meets her eyes like a quiet challenge, lips bearing their usual mischief as he brings up a hand to carefully slide over the front of her thigh beneath a skirt that does little to cover her, feeling out the material of the stocking, thumb stroking slow as if to test how thin it is for her to feel that direct touch. ]
Still not close enough for me to tell. Crawl up a little more and I can give you the full inspection.
cw: adult themes
but marta hasn't been this happy in a long time, either. far from the practical, rational decisions she's always tried to make in her past, if temporary is all she's given here, she'll take it.
anything for another few seconds longer to see this man smile at her. ]
A full inspection? That sounds ambitious on an empty stomach.
[ doesn't stop her from moving though. even with his hand on her thigh she shifts several inches more until his hand has nowhere else to go by be up against swell of her hip, until the hem of that skirt is left tickling his neck and chin. one hand still rests on her other hip, but the other drifts down to trace the sharp angles of his jaw. her fingers are soft in their touch until they're not, grabbing the bottom of his chin to tilt his head further back so he can look right up at her.
for the record? the stockings are ridiculously thin. she feels every inch of his touch. ]
cw: kovacs gonna get nasty with his wife
his fingers touching her now be daring and playful in the moment, but he'd do the torment and torture of the past year and some all over again just to make sure he ends up right back here, resting on this bed with the salvation of her touch right against his chin.
with the demanding tilt she gives him to face her, he follows that silent instruction to meet her eyes, the stare focused and attentive, lustful and longing all at once. the kind that says i'd fight my way through hell to meet your eyes like this. ]
Won't be empty for long. Not with the meal I'll be having.
[ his fingers maintain their slow pace, not with hesitation but with intent, as he curves his palm inward along her thigh, gradually slipping higher and higher until his thumb can be brush right against the apex, nudging a firm but slow dragging stroke where he can feel her panties beneath the stocking. ]