He was all about that force, and his goal in life seemed to be my face. He wasn't breathing, but he looked, felt, more alive than dead. My breathing had sped up, and my body had figured out at what point in his writhing that he plunged inside me, so that my hips thrust upward to meet him. I sipped the last of my coffee, put the mug down carefully on the cabinet, and smiled.
Nice to know I wasn't the only one who needed a steadying hand. I think we should shoot his ass, but I understand why Jean-Claude took the chance. Something about what Raina's munin had done, had torn down his shields. The best sex is after you've learned a few things about each other.
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