[ A gradual, languid stretch eventually makes Ichigo's spine arch up against the weight over him; serpentine and demanding as he presses their bodies together, touching everywhere at once. Each successive bite, or scratch gets little noises, or Ichigo's warm breath shivering out of him to fan across the hollow's bare skin. This hollow, this person who could turn him inside-out. Who knew his worst fears and failures and still stick around. No one else knew him like Shiro.
It's not the pain that arouses him - Ichigo's never been one for that sort of thing - but the way the bites connect them. There's something primal about it, but more than anything it makes him feel...wanted. Even needed. And that's all Ichigo has ever wanted, really. To be useful. Even if it is his own hollow, the sharpness of teeth being soothed away by wet, warm licking is so good. ]
Gotta stop tha - Nnh...that.
[ Despite his words, Ichigo wasn't acting like he wanted to stop at all. He knew he should, and that he was going to have a lof of strange marks to explain to his friends, now. Nnngh, they just felt so good going on! He just can't help it. Turning into the nuzzling a bit, Ichigo closes his lips over the soft skin just under the hinge of the hollow's jaw, neck right on a tendon. Sucking gradually, he hums a pleased little sound when the bone-white skin actually shows a bluish-purple bruise. His tongue flicks against the wounded flesh, hot and laving, and he rakes his nails across the small of a back. But the marks on Shiro fade so quickly, and soon Ichigo can do little more than lay back against the sheets, and let the hollow nibble, and lick at the growing collection of bruises, and bites.
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It's not the pain that arouses him - Ichigo's never been one for that sort of thing - but the way the bites connect them. There's something primal about it, but more than anything it makes him feel...wanted. Even needed. And that's all Ichigo has ever wanted, really. To be useful. Even if it is his own hollow, the sharpness of teeth being soothed away by wet, warm licking is so good. ]
Gotta stop tha - Nnh...that.
[ Despite his words, Ichigo wasn't acting like he wanted to stop at all. He knew he should, and that he was going to have a lof of strange marks to explain to his friends, now. Nnngh, they just felt so good going on!
He just can't help it. Turning into the nuzzling a bit, Ichigo closes his lips over the soft skin just under the hinge of the hollow's jaw, neck right on a tendon. Sucking gradually, he hums a pleased little sound when the bone-white skin actually shows a bluish-purple bruise. His tongue flicks against the wounded flesh, hot and laving, and he rakes his nails across the small of a back. But the marks on Shiro fade so quickly, and soon Ichigo can do little more than lay back against the sheets, and let the hollow nibble, and lick at the growing collection of bruises, and bites.
...Yeah, sleep is sounding better, and better. ]