[ She should have known this would happen. And maybe she'd had a faint inkling of suspicion when she'd agreed to let him continue. But Noire's rational thoughts and misgivings are both at the very, very back of her mind and the size of marble fragments compared to what she's unintentionally focused on now.
Everything's hot. His hands are hot, his kisses burn on her skin, and she feels feverish in a way that would feel alarming, if she wasn't oddly welcoming to the warmth. The air that greets newly exposed skin is still a relief, and she shifts again, his name escaping in a breathless, yearning rush. ]
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Everything's hot. His hands are hot, his kisses burn on her skin, and she feels feverish in a way that would feel alarming, if she wasn't oddly welcoming to the warmth. The air that greets newly exposed skin is still a relief, and she shifts again, his name escaping in a breathless, yearning rush. ]