[ He bites back a moan when her hips press against his -- and as it is, it still comes out as a strained sound at the back of his throat, needy and pleased and pleading.
For a second he stands there, panting against her skin, and when he pulls back his eyes are dark, his skin is flushed, but oh, that smirk on his face is wicked. ]
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For a second he stands there, panting against her skin, and when he pulls back his eyes are dark, his skin is flushed, but oh, that smirk on his face is wicked. ]
I vote we go back to the ship, posthaste.