Isla
"Oh, never in the Fingers," Isla agrees with a melodic laugh. "Not just because of what happened today, but if any of those men uncovered it by accident, they might think me ungrateful." And as a former duchess, that simply won't do. Smiling as she has to practically force herself away from Ever's lingering kiss, once they've established that there are no imminent emergencies and her shoes are tucked away, it's with another (much needed) sip of wine that she hears about the rest of the aviator's day.
"Paperwork? Riveting," she says teasingly, but only because a large part of the end of her day had been consumed by the same. But then he's suggesting stripping off, and only the belated context of a bath stops the heat in her cheeks from creeping towards the tips of her ears. "Aw, Ever," she trills instead, padding back across to him and leaning up on her toes for another kiss, this one much less polite but no less sweet for it.
"That sounds wonderful. I would really like to do that," she tells him, kissing the tip of his nose and already breezing by to the bathroom. A moment later, her blouse lands outside the doorway, and her bra follows it a moment later.
"Paperwork? Riveting," she says teasingly, but only because a large part of the end of her day had been consumed by the same. But then he's suggesting stripping off, and only the belated context of a bath stops the heat in her cheeks from creeping towards the tips of her ears. "Aw, Ever," she trills instead, padding back across to him and leaning up on her toes for another kiss, this one much less polite but no less sweet for it.
"That sounds wonderful. I would really like to do that," she tells him, kissing the tip of his nose and already breezing by to the bathroom. A moment later, her blouse lands outside the doorway, and her bra follows it a moment later.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
