Rogue realized belatedly that she'd promised not to do this sort of thing to him again in public, but she just couldn't help herself. It was this deep need to kiss him, touch him, be as close as she could until she couldn't tell where she ended and he started. And it wasn't just that she'd missed the touch of a man, though she wouldn't deny that that was a factor - more so, it was Steve. He was like oxygen to her, and even after such a short time, a life without him seemed impossible.
She'd apologize for it later.
She was addicted to the way he stayed close to her after the intense kiss ended, following it with little ones and the amazing way he pressed his forehead to hers. It was such a simple gesture, but it was so incredibly intimate, and something she'd never been able to experience before, not in the same way. Her dark eyes watched his expression as he struggled to get the words out, confused and a little worried until the end when it all clicked together. Oh, Steve.
Loosing her grip on his shirt, she smiled softly at him and lifted her hands to frame his face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheeks. "I have," she confirmed quietly, being as gentle and delicate about the subject as he'd tried to be. He was from a different era, she reminded herself, and he was clearly having trouble with the subject despite its importance. "Only with my husband; I couldn't anyone else enough to try. But he was nothing if not creative, and we had a healthy relationship despite the limitations of my situation."
no subject
She'd apologize for it later.
She was addicted to the way he stayed close to her after the intense kiss ended, following it with little ones and the amazing way he pressed his forehead to hers. It was such a simple gesture, but it was so incredibly intimate, and something she'd never been able to experience before, not in the same way. Her dark eyes watched his expression as he struggled to get the words out, confused and a little worried until the end when it all clicked together. Oh, Steve.
Loosing her grip on his shirt, she smiled softly at him and lifted her hands to frame his face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheeks. "I have," she confirmed quietly, being as gentle and delicate about the subject as he'd tried to be. He was from a different era, she reminded herself, and he was clearly having trouble with the subject despite its importance. "Only with my husband; I couldn't anyone else enough to try. But he was nothing if not creative, and we had a healthy relationship despite the limitations of my situation."