Isla
"You know what," Isla growls at him in return, her blue eyes narrowing as she senses that part of him that loves to tease flicker to life. And so as he backs them away from the wall and leads them down the hallway, Isla presses her lips against his ear and tells him exactly what she wants. I want you to fuck me, fast and rough like someone might catch us. I want to hear you moan my name, and I want you to cum so hard that you forget where we are and why. I want it to feel like too much, like it might feel so good that it hurts.
And on and on in that vein, while her fingers slip beneath the back of his shirt so that scalpel sharp fingertips can tickle across his shoulders with the barest hints of pressure. They sit and the friction it creates between them is almost unbearable. Still, Isla knows Remi, and the crooked and fanged grin on her face as she leans back is almost identical to his own. "Then you'd better get started," she whispers, her hips rocking against him in a slow and indulgent rhythm. "We've got time to kill, right?"
And on and on in that vein, while her fingers slip beneath the back of his shirt so that scalpel sharp fingertips can tickle across his shoulders with the barest hints of pressure. They sit and the friction it creates between them is almost unbearable. Still, Isla knows Remi, and the crooked and fanged grin on her face as she leans back is almost identical to his own. "Then you'd better get started," she whispers, her hips rocking against him in a slow and indulgent rhythm. "We've got time to kill, right?"
sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything
and try forgetting everything
