Carefully he set it off to the side, tongue slowly gliding across chapped lips. "You'll have to cook for me then, one of these days. When I can eat normally." On the chance that things went poorly, food wise, Chase didn't want to end up sicker than he already was or prone to be. "Gonna be a little Martha Stewart, kitten?" He asked, leaning forward and pressing his elbows into his knees, between the spaces of her thumb and forefinger from how her hands were splayed.
Already, his hands were sliding into her hair, thumbs running along the smooth skin of her jaw as he tugged her slower, coaxing her onto her knees while he met her halfway. "You took care of me, let me take care of you now," he instructed, in a way that implied there was no room for arguing, though he suspected she wouldn't protest.
Not when his mouth was sliding against hers and fingers were slipping deeper into cotton candy locks, blunt nails scraping across her scalp as he drew her closer, more properly into his lap.
ghouliboo
