[ She doesn't think she particularly wants him aroused right now either, definitely doesn't want him to correlate this particular whole - thing with sex really. (On the other hand, she has to admit this is a sad waste of great foreplay. But you get what you get.) Her hand is just going to linger there, almost cradling his face, as careful and light but steady as she can make it.
And it's going to follow him when he looks to the side, make sure that her touch is steady, because she's always known he had terrible self-esteem (strange, for someone who could be so very arrogant in so many areas, that he would also be incapable of thinking well of himself as a person) but what she's getting from his mind here, the surface areas of it that she can't avoid, the way he's looking away from her - there are only a few reasons for him not believing her despite knowing she doesn't lie to him. And none of them are ones that she would be happy about him having. ]
Believe me now. [ Please, is the impression of her mind. Please believe her, and she leans down to rest her forehead against his. ] I can show you.
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And it's going to follow him when he looks to the side, make sure that her touch is steady, because she's always known he had terrible self-esteem (strange, for someone who could be so very arrogant in so many areas, that he would also be incapable of thinking well of himself as a person) but what she's getting from his mind here, the surface areas of it that she can't avoid, the way he's looking away from her - there are only a few reasons for him not believing her despite knowing she doesn't lie to him. And none of them are ones that she would be happy about him having. ]
Believe me now. [ Please, is the impression of her mind. Please believe her, and she leans down to rest her forehead against his. ] I can show you.