But she didn't. She didn't demand that he release her from his grasp, nor did she reiterate that she wanted to leave; rather, she melted into him and undid their attempts in the last few minutes to relax their senses. This time, however, she seemed to take control, tugging on his hair—damn her and her willingness to use his weak spots against him—and letting her lips wander over his pulse point and even further down her neck. An unintentional moan found its way out of his mouth, and soon his hands had wandered just about every place within his reach.
He turned his head so his lips were closer to her ears, though the angle made getting out an audible whisper nearly impossible. "You have no idea how much I want you right now, Febs," he grunted, pulling her hips roughly against his. He'd decided it was impossible for him to pull away without being forced; he'd spent yesterday evening at a brothel thinking about a moment like this, and now he had her—all hot and bothered, too—in his arms.
(Well, they might as well start building a house here. It seemed they were never leaving.)
He turned his head so his lips were closer to her ears, though the angle made getting out an audible whisper nearly impossible. "You have no idea how much I want you right now, Febs," he grunted, pulling her hips roughly against his. He'd decided it was impossible for him to pull away without being forced; he'd spent yesterday evening at a brothel thinking about a moment like this, and now he had her—all hot and bothered, too—in his arms.
(Well, they might as well start building a house here. It seemed they were never leaving.)
— set by MJ! —