[Strictly speaking, it's only been a few weeks since she's been kissed herself, but still Rosalind leans into it just as eagerly as if it's been ages. His mouth is hard and he kisses with confidence, and god, but she's hungry for it. Her hand settles lightly on his shoulder, but that doesn't last.
Because, see, Robert is, of course, the ideal man. No one could or will ever match Robert, not in Rosalind's mind. But Eggsy is very attractive, and very wet, and very shirtless, and how is she meant to resist that? So no, her hand doesn't stay on his shoulder. She drags it over his torso like she's got a right to it; like they've done this often enough that she knows she's allowed. Down the lines of his body, over his torso, her fingers firm and ever-moving.
(What is she doing? She'll wonder at this later. She'll be horrified at this later, frankly, but not for any reason to do with Eggsy himself. Madam Lutece can't ever go around kissing anyone, not ever, and especially not some strange boy ten years younger than her. She'll burn with embarrassment and choke with the horror of what might have happened, but oh, that's for later).
For now, she opens her mouth to it, her tongue slipping forward, because what's the point of being older and more experienced if you don't do anything with it?]
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Because, see, Robert is, of course, the ideal man. No one could or will ever match Robert, not in Rosalind's mind. But Eggsy is very attractive, and very wet, and very shirtless, and how is she meant to resist that? So no, her hand doesn't stay on his shoulder. She drags it over his torso like she's got a right to it; like they've done this often enough that she knows she's allowed. Down the lines of his body, over his torso, her fingers firm and ever-moving.
(What is she doing? She'll wonder at this later. She'll be horrified at this later, frankly, but not for any reason to do with Eggsy himself. Madam Lutece can't ever go around kissing anyone, not ever, and especially not some strange boy ten years younger than her. She'll burn with embarrassment and choke with the horror of what might have happened, but oh, that's for later).
For now, she opens her mouth to it, her tongue slipping forward, because what's the point of being older and more experienced if you don't do anything with it?]