Isla
Isla's eyes flutter shut at the feel of his attention; the hands ghosting over her skin, the tongue pressed against her own, the feel of hard muscle and soft lips and everything she's been missing. Hitching in a breath that might be a gasp, her head tilts back and her hips lift so he might be able to tug her pants off; at the same time, her fingers tease through the back of his dark hair, twining it between them.
"When you put it like that, we may as well already plan for round two," she whispers, a fanged grin tugging at her lips, and she blinks her eyes back open just in time to blink down at him. Silver races over her cheeks, Isla's free hand stroking down across his shoulder, and it doesn't matter if it's his metal arm or the one made of flesh and fluid - she still wants his hands pressed back against her.
"When you put it like that, we may as well already plan for round two," she whispers, a fanged grin tugging at her lips, and she blinks her eyes back open just in time to blink down at him. Silver races over her cheeks, Isla's free hand stroking down across his shoulder, and it doesn't matter if it's his metal arm or the one made of flesh and fluid - she still wants his hands pressed back against her.
we're gonna separate ourselves tonight
we're always running scared but holding knives
we're always running scared but holding knives
