The words hit Soha somewhere between her chest and her face and the result was a surge of fury hot enough to briefly override everything else — she pulled back from the kiss, or tried to, her hands pushing at his chest.
"You—" Her voice came out completely wrecked, breathless and wet and furious. "You idiot — you — stop—"
He leaned over her.
His mouth found hers again and the protest died in way protests died when his tongue was involved — not gradually, immediately, the sentence dissolving at the point of contact.
"Mmph—! Mngh—"
His cock pressed against her thigh.
She felt it — the full weight of it, the heat, the hardness, the thick shaft rubbing against the inside of her thigh through where the blanket had parted, his hips shifting to press it closer, the motion dragging the length of him against her skin.
His hand moved.
