NERON
the hailstorm
He liked the sound of her laugh. Perhaps it was because it felt like a rarity, a privilege almost, but it was something he found himself wanting to hear again. ”Yes, well, when you put it like that,” Neron began, his tone wry and amused, only for his words to be cut off by another kiss from Morgan. That was something else he might get used to, given the opportunity, and his grip tightened on her willingly, fingers teasing through her hair.
It was the command that really did it, though. Whether she knew she was doing it or not, Morgan giving orders was missing only a sharp slap across the face for Neron to turn to putty; he gazed down at her, lifting a hand to reach up and gently wipe a smear of crimson from her lips with his thumb. ”With pleasure,” he purred, leaning in for another kiss only to cut it short to gracefully drop to one knee. What he did from there was make very short work of unbuckling her belt, hands roaming beneath fabric to seek out soft skin, lips pressing to the curve of her hips.
It was the command that really did it, though. Whether she knew she was doing it or not, Morgan giving orders was missing only a sharp slap across the face for Neron to turn to putty; he gazed down at her, lifting a hand to reach up and gently wipe a smear of crimson from her lips with his thumb. ”With pleasure,” he purred, leaning in for another kiss only to cut it short to gracefully drop to one knee. What he did from there was make very short work of unbuckling her belt, hands roaming beneath fabric to seek out soft skin, lips pressing to the curve of her hips.
