[ Amos pulls back enough to get his shirt off when Clara starts bunching it up, pinning her to the wall with his hips for a split second. It's enough, as he drops the shirt down onto her floor and moves back in, finding himself wanting more of her kisses, the taste of her lips.
His own fingers slip further under her bra once he's back at it, index finger brushing the underside of her breast, moving up to cup it as he rolls his hips against Clara's, letting himself go enough that he's already getting affected. It's a lazy build in his lower stomach, warmth spreading through his body, but he's determined to enjoy it, not letting his head wander to far off, or detach entirely from the situation.
It isn't like anything he's used to do. It's fine. ]
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His own fingers slip further under her bra once he's back at it, index finger brushing the underside of her breast, moving up to cup it as he rolls his hips against Clara's, letting himself go enough that he's already getting affected. It's a lazy build in his lower stomach, warmth spreading through his body, but he's determined to enjoy it, not letting his head wander to far off, or detach entirely from the situation.
It isn't like anything he's used to do. It's fine. ]