Isaac cried out in surprise at the sudden rush of feeling and arousal slamming into him like a freight train, eyes comically wide as his knees buckled. Slumping against the wall, he gazed up at the approaching figure, pleading with his eyes as he let out a pitiful little whimper.
Fisting one hand in his hair, she dropped the other one to scrape at his shirt, nails dragging up his back and leaving fast-fading marks. The sounds she was making were inelegant and needy, and there were too damn many clothes in the way.
Whining loudly in unison as he wriggled and writhed against her, he rocked his hips down and twisted to try and aid her in tugging his shirt off, cursing quite colourfully as his head got stuck. The room was filled with the tantalizing stench of arousal and he slid his hands up her shirt, fumbling awkwardly with her bra.
“No,” she muttered breathlessly, “let me, hold on … ” Summer squirmed out from under him, panting, and practically ripped her shirt off, and her bra. Getting her skirt off was harder, and she gave up and launched herself at him again, latching onto his throat and biting.