[o] bad luck never lost a race

There is no such thing as a bad idea.

The vibration of her hum against his lips reverberated down his spine, settling in his core like molten lava. He returned the bite on his lips, opening her mouth to reach his tongue deeper into her mouth while she trailed her fingers down his chest. When she reached the top of his pants, Ace grinned and mirrored her earlier actions. He grasped her hand, bringing it lower to settle over the large bulge that stood erect between them. Even the slight pressure of their joined hands sent a pounding ache through him, forcing him to break the kiss in a momentary haze of desire that stole his breath and vision. Closing his eyes in a heady groan, he asked Sohalia, Do you feel that? How could she not, when the strength of his need pulsed, begging to be released? 

He opened his eyes to glance up at her, grinding slowly against her delicate hand as he brought his lips back up to hers. You did that. Ace released her hand to let her do the honors as he began undoing the buttons of her pants seductively slow. His voice was darker than the night sky around them as he said, I want you - all of you. To be buried deep inside her, feeling the rush of release that rivaled any breakneck speeds, to feel her tighten around him as she fell from that ledge again. And should she choose to proceed (which he knew she would), Sohalia would find him ready for her, proving that 'hung like a horse' didn't only apply to his shift.

Only Poorly Executed Awesome Ones.

Ace