[Her fingers grasp at his hand, and he thinks to himself what fond affectations are still present between them, even as he has his mouth buried between her legs, his tongue moving in slow, tracing circles when he isn’t kissing, sucking. Sholmes obliges, and happily so — he turns his wrist at just the right angle to twine his fingers through hers, if she allows for it.
Makes a pleasurable little noise at this gesture, of all things, and though handholding certainly has little to do with how she twitches beneath his tongue, he can appreciate both in equal measure. She asks him to continue, and so he does, though he never truly paused at all.]
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Makes a pleasurable little noise at this gesture, of all things, and though handholding certainly has little to do with how she twitches beneath his tongue, he can appreciate both in equal measure. She asks him to continue, and so he does, though he never truly paused at all.]