we're always running scared but holding knives
There's a startling and dangerous moment where Isla can't tell how hard she's pressing against Remi's windpipe or for how long, and it's only as she realises his hand isn't pinning hers in place any longer that she has the sense to release him. Her chest heaving, body still arched deliciously against his own, the doctor relaxes by slow degrees, moaning out her indulgent approval of his performance.
Slowly and gently lowering herself to splay across his body, Isla presses a few apologetic kisses against his abused throat. "Remi," she whispers, her voice hoarse but the smile is still audible. "That was fucking incredible." Laughing and closing her eyes, she has no intention of moving anywhere for the time being.
Slowly and gently lowering herself to splay across his body, Isla presses a few apologetic kisses against his abused throat. "Remi," she whispers, her voice hoarse but the smile is still audible. "That was fucking incredible." Laughing and closing her eyes, she has no intention of moving anywhere for the time being.
Isla
