[She laughs, quietly and surprisingly lightly, but an orgasm does wonders for her spirits. Besides: of all the people she knows here, she knows she has little to fear from Jamie Fraser. He won't hear her laugh and think her suddenly foolish or incapable.]
I bet you wouldn't.
[She squirms pointedly, pleased despite herself he'd finished in her. It is claiming, though she'd never admit it out loud, and though they might never be in love, it's nice to be claimed.
He ought to finish on her next, she thinks, and tips her head, nosing idly against him.]
Filthy thing . . . what was that you were saying?
[Those curses, she means, and her tongue is clumsy as she tries to repeat them.]
I've never been afraid of showin' off my handiwork.
[ Specifically if he could make a woman orgasm like that. Perhaps not always something he'd want to do. Show off. But in this moment he doesn't mind it. The thought excites him. It's different for him. New. Though that just about sums Rosalind up. Different and new. Their entire relationship is different and new. Though he hesitates to say that word. Friendship? A strange in between he assumes now.
That little bit of extra movement sends shivers through Jamie's spine. He sighs and smiles. It's small movements, but given that he's still inside of her they rocket through like jolts of lightning from the sky. ]
Ye've caught me. Filthy words.
[ Repeating them back word for word now would only make them sound foolish outside of the moment. ]
[But she's content to know the general shape of them, if not the specific meanings. Squirming again (just to tease this time, and the curve of her smirk says as much), Rosalind runs her hands over him again, against his shoulders and down his back, and--
Ah. There's that scarring, thick and overlapping against his back. A whipping? Possibly, but Rosalind knows she hasn't the imagination to know what kinds of weapons might leave those marks on a man. But if it was a whipping, it must have been several over a long period of time; there's so many she's certain he would have died if it was all in one go.
Her eyes flicker up, meeting his, and she tips her head in silent question.]
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no subject
Date: 2018-03-21 07:58 am (UTC)I bet you wouldn't.
[She squirms pointedly, pleased despite herself he'd finished in her. It is claiming, though she'd never admit it out loud, and though they might never be in love, it's nice to be claimed.
He ought to finish on her next, she thinks, and tips her head, nosing idly against him.]
Filthy thing . . . what was that you were saying?
[Those curses, she means, and her tongue is clumsy as she tries to repeat them.]
no subject
Date: 2018-04-28 08:02 am (UTC)[ Specifically if he could make a woman orgasm like that. Perhaps not always something he'd want to do. Show off. But in this moment he doesn't mind it. The thought excites him. It's different for him. New. Though that just about sums Rosalind up. Different and new. Their entire relationship is different and new. Though he hesitates to say that word. Friendship? A strange in between he assumes now.
That little bit of extra movement sends shivers through Jamie's spine. He sighs and smiles. It's small movements, but given that he's still inside of her they rocket through like jolts of lightning from the sky. ]
Ye've caught me. Filthy words.
[ Repeating them back word for word now would only make them sound foolish outside of the moment. ]
Singing yer praises. In a colorful way.
no subject
Date: 2018-05-01 05:34 am (UTC)[But she's content to know the general shape of them, if not the specific meanings. Squirming again (just to tease this time, and the curve of her smirk says as much), Rosalind runs her hands over him again, against his shoulders and down his back, and--
Ah. There's that scarring, thick and overlapping against his back. A whipping? Possibly, but Rosalind knows she hasn't the imagination to know what kinds of weapons might leave those marks on a man. But if it was a whipping, it must have been several over a long period of time; there's so many she's certain he would have died if it was all in one go.
Her eyes flicker up, meeting his, and she tips her head in silent question.]