She inched her hands around until she could pull herself flush to his body, basically hanging off him. He felt so good under her grip; someone who would give and take, push and pull and never let her just run over him. “Love you, you gorgeous bastard,” she said, and kissed him some more so he couldn’t talk.
The words surprised the Mesmer, in all reality. They hadn’t been said before, hadn’t even been hinted towards all that much between the two of them. But..once she’d said them, they felt right, especially with the fold name he received afterwards. He wanted to speak, wanted to reply, but then she was kissing him so deeply he couldn’t pull back to say a goddamn word – he didn’t complain, of course.
She bit at his tongue, at his lip, scraped her nails into his back and wrestled him down to sprawl over her on the leather where she could buck her hips up into his. For a long time there was nothing but his mouth, his hands, his warmth, and the build of desire. When at last she pulled her lips from his, words were hard to form. “Clothes. Off. Now,” she gasped.