when it's just the two of us, only the two of us
"Remi..." Isla isn't sure what's wrong, only that something is - that something has been wrong from the moment they shared that first kiss in the outskirts. But in her selfishness and her own desire, she's put that to one side until now, until his refusal to let it end punctuates the air, until his head lolls against her. "I don't think even you conjure up another erection that quickly. Give it a minute?" A minute for Isla to check that she can still walk, that he hasn't broken any of her bones.
Still, though, she doesn't let him go, her fingers stroking down the length of his back, and she presses a bloody kiss against his bearded cheek, as if trying to draw him back into the present. "I'll use part of my shirt as a bandage for your neck," she suggests. "While I do and we sit down, you can tell me what's on your mind?"
Still, though, she doesn't let him go, her fingers stroking down the length of his back, and she presses a bloody kiss against his bearded cheek, as if trying to draw him back into the present. "I'll use part of my shirt as a bandage for your neck," she suggests. "While I do and we sit down, you can tell me what's on your mind?"
i could die
Isla
