(SE) we can just dance to this

Maeve

Maeve looks down at him with an arched brow, a smirk curling on her lips at the sound that leaves him. She's always in charge in some kind of way. Especially when it comes to her clients, but Locke isn't a client. He's her boyfriend. Her lover. He's special. Which is maybe why it's so much better watching the flush spread over his cheeks and down his throat. Maeve licks her lips, holding herself up just enough that she's not pressing against him more than she needs to. Just because she wants to tease him a little bit. It seems to work when his hips roll up, barely grinding against hers and making her shiver in anticipation. "Then do it. You said you wanted to play a game, right? Let's play." She purrs, bending down to nip sharply at his bottom lip, giving it a little tug before she draws back.

Her head cocks to the side and she hums, pursing her lips as she considers his question, "What kind of bet?" Maeve's interest is definitely piqued. She's always been one for silly things like bets. Mostly because they're just fun. Especially the harmless ones. There is a chance that this isn't exactly harmless, but Maeve wants to play. The Madame lowers herself enough that she can grind against him, the movement agonizingly slow even for her, but it stirs up the heat in her belly. Something that is becoming incredibly difficult to ignore. He better do something to take care of it soon. Otherwise he's going to have some trouble on his hands.

And I was catching my breath
Staring out an open window
catching my death