He doesn't tell her about Quinn's, about how they got bigger. She's out of sight, out of mind, and they never really spoke about her much in Lima, anyway. For all intents and purposes, Rachel and Shelby are Beth's mothers, and Quinn doesn't exist. [Even if he knows the pregnancy-boobs thing to be true, because he saw it happen with Quinn. TRUE. DAT.] "Mmmmmm," he agrees, brushing his lips once more over hers.
"Or we could just fuck the whole time and make it really fucking explosive anyway," he breathes, his voice shuddering as he drops kisses over her collarbone. "We could fuck so hard that you can't fucking walk when we get married, I gotta carry you in. Make you come so hard you're dripping so fucking full, baby. You know I wanna do that. Wanna fill you up." He can't explain how badly he wants to possess her. It seems silly [sounds silly, stupid and anti-feminist] but he's all about these sweet kisses, brushes of his stubble against the smooth skin of her neck, and he wants to mark her [that fucking tattoo, it's going to turn him on for years, even just thinking of it] because he's about to lose her for 24 - 48 hours and he doesn't want to let her go, even if it'll be so worth it when he's finally got her back in his arms.
He moves easily, drawing her toward the bed, nudging her hips in encouragement to climb up onto the mattress. "Lie down," he murmurs, hurried even against the slow brushes of her mouth against his own, even as she tries to take things slowly, savoring them [he wants more, he wants fast]. "Want you, Rach. Can't wait for the slow shit. Need you fucking now and then more."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-02-26 05:49 am (UTC)"Or we could just fuck the whole time and make it really fucking explosive anyway," he breathes, his voice shuddering as he drops kisses over her collarbone. "We could fuck so hard that you can't fucking walk when we get married, I gotta carry you in. Make you come so hard you're dripping so fucking full, baby. You know I wanna do that. Wanna fill you up." He can't explain how badly he wants to possess her. It seems silly [sounds silly, stupid and anti-feminist] but he's all about these sweet kisses, brushes of his stubble against the smooth skin of her neck, and he wants to mark her [that fucking tattoo, it's going to turn him on for years, even just thinking of it] because he's about to lose her for 24 - 48 hours and he doesn't want to let her go, even if it'll be so worth it when he's finally got her back in his arms.
He moves easily, drawing her toward the bed, nudging her hips in encouragement to climb up onto the mattress. "Lie down," he murmurs, hurried even against the slow brushes of her mouth against his own, even as she tries to take things slowly, savoring them [he wants more, he wants fast]. "Want you, Rach. Can't wait for the slow shit. Need you fucking now and then more."