[ she's going to murder him. absolutely, completely kill him for this, and she's not even going to feel remotely bad, because, oh, he deserves it. for starting this in the first place, for being such an insufferable jackass, for—
oh, hell.
that little sound out of him is exhilarating in a way emma absolutely refuses to acknowledge, because, she tells herself, it's just that she's thrown him for a loop that's satisfying — that's it. not the reaction itself and whatever that could've meant for faraday's predilections (because while she's curious in this moment, she will absolutely never, never ask joshua faraday about his sex life. full stop.). she's also definitely not going to think about the way it makes her heart pound, that the way he kisses her leaves her breathless and a little lightheaded — nerves, she tells herself. it has to be how anxious she is about being caught, about trying to pass this off the right way.
it has to look good, just like the rest of their inconvenient cover, and as faraday finally pulls away from her lips, she thinks there's no way this won't be solid enough to ward away suspicion. she's almost surprised (not disappointed) when he stops kissing her, a flicker of confusion on her face that quickly melts away. ]
Wh—oh—
[ she will absolutely never, not in a million years, own up to the breathy, near-moan that slips out of her as the heat of his mouth slides across her oh-so sensitive throat. part of the act, she'd say, if she ever has to explain herself. she's just— that good an actress, obviously, and certainly not affected by the way faraday drags her into him, her curves pressed right up against his chest, every inch of her body practically molding to his.
she's trying to listen for the footsteps down the hall, trying to pick out the sound of other doors being opened, but as her breathing hitches, she slides her free hand under the open material of faraday's shirt, her nails digging into his shoulder — a little extra roughly each time she shudders against him. she still clings to his hair, and she will absolutely die before she admits that a particular shift of his mouth makes her whimper.
just an act. a very, very good act, because this makes holding his arm look like child's play. ]
no subject
oh, hell.
that little sound out of him is exhilarating in a way emma absolutely refuses to acknowledge, because, she tells herself, it's just that she's thrown him for a loop that's satisfying — that's it. not the reaction itself and whatever that could've meant for faraday's predilections (because while she's curious in this moment, she will absolutely never, never ask joshua faraday about his sex life. full stop.). she's also definitely not going to think about the way it makes her heart pound, that the way he kisses her leaves her breathless and a little lightheaded — nerves, she tells herself. it has to be how anxious she is about being caught, about trying to pass this off the right way.
it has to look good, just like the rest of their inconvenient cover, and as faraday finally pulls away from her lips, she thinks there's no way this won't be solid enough to ward away suspicion. she's almost surprised (not disappointed) when he stops kissing her, a flicker of confusion on her face that quickly melts away. ]
Wh—oh—
[ she will absolutely never, not in a million years, own up to the breathy, near-moan that slips out of her as the heat of his mouth slides across her oh-so sensitive throat. part of the act, she'd say, if she ever has to explain herself. she's just— that good an actress, obviously, and certainly not affected by the way faraday drags her into him, her curves pressed right up against his chest, every inch of her body practically molding to his.
she's trying to listen for the footsteps down the hall, trying to pick out the sound of other doors being opened, but as her breathing hitches, she slides her free hand under the open material of faraday's shirt, her nails digging into his shoulder — a little extra roughly each time she shudders against him. she still clings to his hair, and she will absolutely die before she admits that a particular shift of his mouth makes her whimper.
just an act. a very, very good act, because this makes holding his arm look like child's play. ]