[ Viktor's hum is agreeable and warm against Yuuri's neck, obediently running the heel of his hand up the center of Yuuri's shaft and close gently around the lace-covered tip, teasing the light dampness already growing out from where the slit rests. So early? My Yuuri is eager, but Viktor's remembering what lace and sheer fabrics do to his darling's erogenous zones when he's aroused, like throwing jet fuel on a roaring bonfire.

It's why Viktor doesn't mourn Yuuri losing his virginal inexperience: he is as sensitive today as he was when he let Viktor explore him over the course of an hour, back when Yuuri wasn't ready for penetrative sex. Yuuri had been laid out, made to spread his legs with his feet pressed to the mattress, forbidden to bring his hands anywhere near his cock. And Viktor made an evening of making Yuuri sigh and arch with only the balls of his feet driving into the bed, his magnificent thighs tense with pleasure. Ahh, memories.

Therefore Viktor has good reason to remove himself from beneath Yuuri's skirt and leverage himself up onto his elbow, no cruelty in the smirk looming over Yuuri's face. ]

I like to think that I can show my love in how well I know you, Yuuchan.

[ Here Viktor retreats further, craning up to rest on his knees and drape Yuuri's fine, stocking-clad legs high up and over them, bodily dragging Yuuri down. Snug as a bug. Viktor's hands then busy themselves skimming upward to feel out the shape of the bra beneath that sheer blouse - gorgeous embroidery apparent. ]

How well I know my diva's body and only care to make her feel like the divine being she is.

[ The pressure increases, Viktor pushing up and outward against Yuuri's breasts, massaging them in broad circles with his gaze intent on his face because this is merely the appetizer for when the bra comes off. ]

Moan when you haven't had enough.