theonlyoneliving
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There’s a chill in the air of Jane’s office, especially without her jumper. Sol doesn’t look down, but she watches Jane notice her nipples hardening under the see-through fabric. Watches her swallow.
Focus, Sol mouths at her.
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How Cornelius Hickey got his name.
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Jane confessionally brings her lips to Sol’s ear, warm breath tickling as she whispers, “I want— I want you to teach me, Sol, please.”
“Teach you what, doll?” Sol asks. She’s taught Jane everything she knows— bar how to touch herself, that she’d already done plenty of, the little sinner. From showing her the proper mechanics of kissing with tongue to how to crook her fingers inside Sol until she saw stars, Jane had been a top pupil, a quick study. There was much yet to be discovered, though, and Sol’s keen to know what Jane has her sights set on now.
“I’d like to know—” she begins, head ducking shyly downwards, “how to— how to use my mouth. On you.”
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“What are you going to do with me, Jopson?” Hickey asks. Thomas despises the hint of mirth creeping into his voice. “Tie me up and flog me again?”
In response, Thomas wrenches the brace from Hickey’s grasp. With practiced ease, he ties Hickey’s hands behind his back, the knot tighter than perhaps necessary.
“No,” Thomas says, giving the knot one finishing tug. “You’d like that too much.”
“And you wouldn’t?
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Solomon leans back against the gunwale, elbows up, tobacco smoke warming his throat and his chest against the cold arctic night. He lets his eyes drift shut and languidly tilts his head back as he slowly exhales, smoke mingling with the mist that envelops himself and the lieutenant. He can feel Edward’s eyes on him. It’s now or never.
He turns a heavy-lidded gaze on Edward, whose dark, wide eyes are fixed steadily on his mouth. “Warms a man up, on a night like this,” Solomon all but purrs, nodding to Edward’s pipe. Casual as anything, he adds, “Could kiss you for it, I swear.”