[She's seriously going to be the death of him. His doom. His undoing. He's getting a little weak in the knees here, when she catches his lip with her teeth and that's part of why he's pulling away, nodding towards his desk on the other side of the room.
It's a sturdy desk, it could hold their weight-- not that he's thought about it before this moment, he swears. Or they could sit in his chair and wouldn't that be nice. He's got a thousand and one ideas suddenly, inspired by her and is he going too far? Is it too much?
[ Is that the first thing you're saying to her when she kisses you, Raleigh? She gives him a dry, near-disbelieving, semi-amused look. But she takes his cue and moves to perch on the desk, adjusting herself on it so that she's decent -- she might be in love with her gorgeous specimen of a teacher, but it doesn't mean that she's just giving it away.
She gestures him over, and she doesn't care -- she wants all of his ideas, his inspirations. She wants him. ]
[Well--she is. Or maybe Raleigh's just used to girls in heels, not that he's making an assumptions about Mako and what she wears outside of class but she's also practical and doesn't wear big high heels to school but what if she wore them on a date--
Raleigh smiles when she moves her skirt down, all prim and proper like she's not making out with her French teacher in his office. It's good, really because any part of him that might've thought this was just a bet or a prank or some schoolgirl fantasy doesn't think that anymore.
He stops in front of her, her knees brushing against his stomach.]
[ He's smiling and he's endlessly charming when he does, boyish and handsome and it makes her breath catch; this is a part of why she's so attracted to him -- it's in the way he looks at her, when she can almost grasp at what he's thinking.
So when he moves forward, her knees against his stomach, she only leans forward, shifting to ease her thighs apart so he can come closer. She's considerate, you see; getting neck cramp from kissing can kill the mood.
She tips her head at him sassily; the way he speaks french is sexy, wonderfully so, and she wants more. ] Please what? Please kiss me? Would you like to hear that in French, teacher?
[Neck cramps do kill the mood, that's true. Raleigh settles against her, his palms coming to rest on her knees lightly. Just sitting there, not pushing anything or trying to explore up higher, respecting the little boundary that she put down when she sat on the desk.
Plus-- not that he's thinking that far ahead (which he totally is) he's not sleeping with her today. And not for many many more weeks either because he knows for a fact that she's not eighteen yet and it's just not happening.
He doesn't draw a lot of lines apparently but that one he does for sure.]
[ There is something thrillingly wonderful about having Raleigh's hands on her, when he touches her like that and even if he's barely doing anything else, he makes her lean forward -- anticipating the kiss with ill-concealed eagerness.
He respects the boundaries she sets up, and she finds that she likes him more for it, that she isn't, in turn, just some dare or fling for him. Mako thinks about that a moment, then leans into his ear, murmuring in soft, Japanese-accented french. She'd been practising, sir. ]
Please kiss me, Mr. Becket. I want you to kiss me.
[Something moves down Raleigh's spine at that, a tingle and a warmth like he finds it so hot that she's whispering that to him right now and he's also proud of her for her near perfect enunciation and grammar, she's clearly been working at it and yeah, her accent is noticeable but it doesn't completely take away from her inflection and oh.
Has he mentioned he's totally fucked?
Raleigh turns his head, brushing his lips against the line of her jaw.]
Very good, Miss Mori.
[And what kind of teacher would be he if he didn't reward her for her hard word, right? Exactly. He moves to kiss her again, pressing his lips against hers firmly, sliding his fingers into her hair too, to keep her right where she is.]
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It's a sturdy desk, it could hold their weight-- not that he's thought about it before this moment, he swears. Or they could sit in his chair and wouldn't that be nice. He's got a thousand and one ideas suddenly, inspired by her and is he going too far? Is it too much?
She's his student. For fuck's sake.]
You're so short.
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[ Is that the first thing you're saying to her when she kisses you, Raleigh? She gives him a dry, near-disbelieving, semi-amused look. But she takes his cue and moves to perch on the desk, adjusting herself on it so that she's decent -- she might be in love with her gorgeous specimen of a teacher, but it doesn't mean that she's just giving it away.
She gestures him over, and she doesn't care -- she wants all of his ideas, his inspirations. She wants him. ]
Come here.
italics=french
Raleigh smiles when she moves her skirt down, all prim and proper like she's not making out with her French teacher in his office. It's good, really because any part of him that might've thought this was just a bet or a prank or some schoolgirl fantasy doesn't think that anymore.
He stops in front of her, her knees brushing against his stomach.]
You should say please, Mako.
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So when he moves forward, her knees against his stomach, she only leans forward, shifting to ease her thighs apart so he can come closer. She's considerate, you see; getting neck cramp from kissing can kill the mood.
She tips her head at him sassily; the way he speaks french is sexy, wonderfully so, and she wants more. ] Please what? Please kiss me? Would you like to hear that in French, teacher?
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Plus-- not that he's thinking that far ahead (which he totally is) he's not sleeping with her today. And not for many many more weeks either because he knows for a fact that she's not eighteen yet and it's just not happening.
He doesn't draw a lot of lines apparently but that one he does for sure.]
Do you know how to say it?
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He respects the boundaries she sets up, and she finds that she likes him more for it, that she isn't, in turn, just some dare or fling for him. Mako thinks about that a moment, then leans into his ear, murmuring in soft, Japanese-accented french. She'd been practising, sir. ]
Please kiss me, Mr. Becket. I want you to kiss me.
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Has he mentioned he's totally fucked?
Raleigh turns his head, brushing his lips against the line of her jaw.]
Very good, Miss Mori.
[And what kind of teacher would be he if he didn't reward her for her hard word, right? Exactly. He moves to kiss her again, pressing his lips against hers firmly, sliding his fingers into her hair too, to keep her right where she is.]