*She's slipped easily into his arms, pliant and willing and tracing the same kisses down his jawline and neck, inhaling deeply, and all she can manage is a small and affronted little sound: angry at him, maybe, or herself--any of it. All of it.*
Mmf. Maybe I do.
*But it's half-hearted in the extreme, more of a question than an answer, or a challenge, as her lips find his collarbone. She isn't even aware of what she's tasting on him, but she makes another small noise: hungry and angry and oddly insistent.*
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Date: 2011-06-24 10:51 pm (UTC)Mmf. Maybe I do.
*But it's half-hearted in the extreme, more of a question than an answer, or a challenge, as her lips find his collarbone. She isn't even aware of what she's tasting on him, but she makes another small noise: hungry and angry and oddly insistent.*
Augh. You don't have to be so horrible.