when you're in a hurricane

ISLA

Isla has the sense - barely - to offer a playful shhhhh that's half-hissed against Ever's lips as something clatters and falls. They've got to be quick and they've got to be quiet, and gods if that doesn't send a lusty thrill through her at the prospect of it. Having unbuckled the aviator's belt and with her dress carefully bunched in one of his hands, the Remedy is free to manoeuvre herself as Ever sits against only the gods know what (she's neither been looking and nor does she care).

Instead, gasping a soft kiss against his lips and reaching down to roughly tug her underwear to one side, she shifts to half sit astride him. He'll find her hot and wet and wanting already, and as she sinks down onto the hard length of his cock, she stifles her moan into little more than a whimper into his mouth, relishing the feel of him inside her as if it really is the first time.

Which - it might not be - but suffice to say it's now been a while for them both.

With no time for sweet nothings and not wanting to risk speaking besides, in case volume gets the better of her, Isla rolls her hips - slow and hard - against Ever, as if to enjoy at least this snapshot of what will be quick and altogether fumbling compared to what they might otherwise get up to.

apres moi le deluge
after me comes the flood