Chapter Text
Scents of sweat, alcohol, and something vaguely copper surrounded the VIP lounge as you sank deep into your favourite leather loveseat. Its cold brown fabric chilling the back of your thighs.
Your very revealing blue dress left nothing to the imagination, hugging every curve and sway of muscle, making you feel powerful, even now as an old fling stands before you broken and wanting.
“I just wanted to ask if you had any work for me?” he delivered with a stern but quiet tone in the thrum of your club. his big puppy brown eyes stared into yours as you considered his request with a sarcastic momentary pause for thought.
“Anything for you handsome.” You smirked at him, after a moment of extended anticipation; you liked watching him squirm. Your partner for the night forgotten as you shoo him away from your presence, you stand to your full height, eye level with your weakness, him: Marc Spector.
With a flirtatious look and a beckon with your finger you have him following you to your office. He trails behind as if on a leash, following your every move. Shutting the heavy door behind himself as you lean against your desk in the corner of the room, your office only really big enough for your desk and seating area in the middle. Your own private drinks stand at the back many a night has been spent here furiously typing away on your laptop or drinking, lonely into the wee small hours of the morning.
Away from the loud music vibrating the walls and distracting bodies you take him in properly. He looks tired, really tired. Like he’s been running from something. You notice more as your eyes roam his form; his floppy curls over his forehead, his hands brought up to his chest, the way he holds himself, so unsure, so unlike the Marc you know.
“What’s wrong? You must be desperate, for you to ask so directly.” You wiggle on your desk, elegantly tapping your bottom lip as you rest your elbow in your hand, leaning forward to inspect him, something wasn’t right. Usually, any amount of flirting would make him spill his guts but this time you barely had to even look at him and he was weak to your suggestion.
“Things have changed, we’re- I’m in need of some work and you’re the last hope.” He raises gently, it’s then out of the loudness of the club that you hear his accent. English.
“Steven, it’s been a while.” You realise soberly. It must be bad if Steven is the one who brought them here. He nods and you’re off your desk and rubbing a reassuring hand over his bicep in an instant. Deep down you notice he’s bigger under your hand than when you last saw him, things really must have changed.
“Marc wanted us to ask you for help, said you’re safe.” Steven explains, leaning into your touch. You nodded and directed him to the chaise opposite your desk, setting him down next to you, all flirtations gone, now was the time to turn your listening ears on and ready your shoulder to cry on.
He sank into the softness of the plush velvety chaise, you, and regaled you with his story, everything from the archaeology mission gone awry, to Arthur Harrow, the incident in Egypt and then his release from the god Khonshu’s service. You expected him to shake like a leaf in the wind as he unravelled his story, everything Marc had told you about Steven was true; the way he spoke, his accent, the way he held himself, constantly curling inwards, but you could tell that he’d gone through a little character development. For starter his voice, his tone was surer and more confident.
During the time you knew Marc, you were both in the military, it was around about when Marc was discharged that you were first intimate, both in mind and body; he told you about Steven, about his condition, about how he felt like an imposter in his own body. It wasn’t long after that his ‘fugue state incident’ led them discharging him, you surmised that it was one of the others, whoever they were inhabiting the same body, but as far as you could tell Steven was the only one who stuck around for any length of time.
The next night Marc showed up to start this new job you made for him, his big puppy eyes could convince you he placed the stars in the sky, you’d do anything for him, he’d only need to ask. You smiled at him as he nodded from the door, his shirt reading BOUNCER in big yellow letters; you couldn’t feel safer. It was nice to see Steven and Marc on the same page. Marc always appeared to be two steps behind himself when you’d known him, and the small glimpses you’d seen of Steven made it feel like he was detached from this world and is body somehow. You didn’t understand at first but eventually you came to see Steven as the one who Marc relied on when things became too much, a couple words here and couple tears there, you didn’t really know Steven.
As he walked you home from the club at the crack of dawn a few nights later, your arm wrapped around his, you could see the way Steven lit up when talking about his adventures, his passions in ancient Egypt and his passion for everything Marc did, he praised the other man inside him like he was his big brother. You looked at him then, seeing his softer features, the roundness of his eyes, the plushness of his lips. Slowing your pace, you decided you loved Steven too, just as much as Marc. Same dopey smile, same smooth tanned skin, same air of protectiveness.
Over the next few nights, you walked home linked arm in arm with Steven or Marc, you often didn’t know which one you’d walk home with, it was your late-night lucky dip. You looked forward to it.
Having him around made you a little more down to earth, gone are the day of recklessness, getting drunk, taking drinks from strangers, and inviting said strangers to your bed. Marc and Steven were your world, every cheeky glance, lingering touch, or just the closeness; you could tell with just a look who was staring back at you.
One particular night, the whole night was doomed, you were sure of it. The building director was up your ass about a renovation you wanted done to the roof top bar, his greedy, perverted eyes had raked your body making you uncomfortable, you knew that Marc and Steven wouldn’t be there until the sun set, the feeling alone had knotted up your shoulders with stress. Then of course, the drugging incident; some whacko thought it was a good idea to spike a bunch of people’s drinks; you had a zero-tolerance policy on non-consensual debauchery, otherwise anything goes in your club.
Towards the end of the night, you had to show the entire club why they used to call you The Cleaver in the military. The two knuckleheads who started throwing your furniture at each other and other patrons, watched stunned as you lifted an intricately designed battle-axe off the wall behind you and haul the massive weapon into the floor between them with a whoosh and a thunderous crack. the hair fallen out of your updo and into your face has shown them both that, if you wanted to, you could end them both with a swing, effortlessly lifting the huge golden axe out of the concrete floor. Shocked patrons stepped away from the scene and the two idiots fled the bar pretty quickly after that. the neon sign over the door did say The Battle-axe after all, what’s a name if you can’t use said namesake to scare the shit out of people sometimes?
“What the bloody hell was that?” Steven’s light voice drifted into your ears after you sat down again, just having heaved the weapon back to its rack above your seat.
“Oh honey,” he startles you and you bring a hand up to caress Steven’s face as you settle comfortably again, “they used to call me The Cleaver in the military, we found this axe buried amongst war contraband, I was the only one who could lift it.” You gaze into his eyes getting lost a little as you explain.
“So why do you have it now?” he asks innocently from your hand, which he’s now leaning into like an actual puppy.
“I stole it.”
That night, as you shut down the bar and count the tils, Steven sits on your chair off in his own little world, peering into the mirror behind the DJ booth adjacent. You watch him for a moment as he seems to be talking to himself, or rather talking to Marc most likely. You catch the last of his side of the conversation as you saunter towards him.
“Alright! Fine, just shut up, ok?” you can see his cheeks are rosy, even his ears are tinted pink; he looks embarrassed. You decidedly say nothing as you extend a hand to him finding his tinted cheeks cute.
“Shall we blow this joint?” you ask with a wink, with a smile he takes your hand, they are slightly clammy and holds your hand in his grip as if you were about to fall through it like sand.
“We shall” he continues to smile wide, nervousness cutting his words short.
You walk arms locked together as you head towards your house, with every click of your heels closer to your place, the warmer Steven feels in your hand. You sense his nerves as you near your door.
“Would you like to come in? for a drink or something?” you offer hopefully, fingers crossed he’d say yes.
“I don’t drink” he blurts out, his jitteriness getting the best of him.
“Well how about a cup of tea?” he visibly perks up at that. Turning your keys unlocking the door to your home, the large wooden door opens to a small foyer with a set of stairs leading to a second floor. You direct him to the kitchen where he marvels at all the immaculate art, statues, and collectables from across the world. You flick the kettle on and bring out a cup and a tea bag for him while you pour yourself a finger of expensive bourbon. He admires the beauty of your home before his eyes land on you, staring at him.
“Beautiful.” he whispers to himself. You’re not sure if he means your home or you, secretly you hope he means the latter.
You giggle lightly into your cup as you watch him nervously sip from his own. You roll your head across your shoulders trying to ease the tightness in your neck and back.
“I could give you a massage if you want, love” Steven offers as you reach your arm up to rub your own fingers into your neck and shoulder. You nod and let out a relieved sigh,
“That would be amazing!” you exclaim, the prospect of a massage from such a gorgeous gentleman has you tingling more than it should have. “Let me get changed and then sure,” you skull the last of your bourbon and move to exit the kitchen, looking behind you when Steven didn’t move, “are you coming?”
Steven watches you move, and his eyes widen, “oh yes! Yes, Yes I’m coming,” he sets his cup down with a loud clink and follows you hurriedly upstairs to your room, where you drop your dress as soon as you’re through the door.
You can feel Steven’s eyes on you, sweeping up your figure, lingering on your black laced bra and panties and your ass as you enter your closet, you turn and give him a wink. You change into a different pair of panties to a pale pink lacy pair. As you emerge again, Steven is looking into your floor to ceiling mirror with a stunned expression, his hands fiddle with his nails as he anxiously stares down who you can only assume to be Marc in his reflection.
“All good?” you run your fingers up his arm and over his bicep as you stand behind him, he looks at you in the mirror, his eyes widen and his spine straightens when you press yourself to his back, your naked breasts press into his skin. He nods and you pull away moving to lay on the bed swaying your ass and sticking it out as you climb on to the bed.
The warm glow of your bedroom light casts a seductive shadow over your body as you lay belly down to your mattress, folding your arms under your head you look at him expectantly with a small smile.
“Right!” Steven skips forward, scrambling to take off his boots and jacket before climbing onto your bed, he pauses for a moment, hesitant on where to be to give you this promised massage, he nods to himself again and goes to straddle the back of your thighs. His weight on your legs grounds you to the moment, you feel his breathing rate climb as he puts his big, rough hands on the small of your back. Slowly he digs his fingers into the muscle, moving along it and gradually up your spine, the warmth of his hands leave goose bumps in their wake. You feel the way his own thighs tighten and tense as he keeps his balance raking over you.
“How’s this?” the brit asks tentatively but not as nervous or shaky as before, sliding his hands down your ribs slowly and ticklishly.
“Good,” you giggle, the shudder traveling the length of you and into where he sits over your thighs, locking you in place. His pace and strokes become more confident, digging in, and loosening all the tension from your posture. You’re nearly drifting off to sleep before fingertips begin tickling down your spine and to your hips, working the roundness of them in his palms as he lightly ghosts over the hem of your panties. You hum again in contentment at his exploration, this leads him to push his fingers against the hem, sliding underneath onto the bare skin off your ass, you feel him cup both globes with his hands before giving a light squeeze, you hum again, this time breathily, through your nose.
“How’s this?” he asks again, all nerves in his tone replaced with confidence and eagerness, you can hear the smile on his lips.
“Really good.” You supply, your hands unfolding from under your head to grip the sheets. One of his hands pulls your panties down below the curve of your ass and under himself before sliding them off your legs behind him. His hands are back on your ass in an instant once he’s thrown your panties somewhere behind him, they squeeze and roam your plump bottom, and pinches the skin between his fingers as he lightly gropes the roundness of it. His thumbs press in between your cheeks, excitedly close to your vulva. He digs his thumbs in spreading your cheeks so he can gaze straight into your hot core, you can’t help the filthy moan that bubbles up your throat. All sorts of warmness floods your face and tingles at your core, making you wet for him.
You moan again as the brit rubs his fingers into your skin not moving for a moment just massaging the flesh under his fingers. Without warning, he slides a finger through your folds, down to your clit, giving it an investigative flick before he’s coming back to your wet hole and swirling around the tight muscle there, but not quite entering. The breathy squeaks from you urge him to do it repeatedly, with each pass, spending more time at your clit and hole, his pace agonisingly slow. You hear a soft moan from him as he watches you squirm just for him.
“Please, puh-please, Steven,” you pant desperately. Your needy voice is all he needs as he plunges two fingers into your hole, leaving them there to savour the warmth and tightness of you and the sweet sounds that spill from your lips.
A small gasp leaves Steven when he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, amazed, watching how you suck his fingers back in for more. Heat pools in your guts and you feel your wetness escape you, you feel it drip past your clit and onto your covers.
he pauses his motions for a moment, and you look over your shoulder desperately at him. He’s looking into the mirror, to Marc again, who is no doubt telling Steven something. Suddenly he’s pumping his fingers in an out of you again them down into your soft spongy G-spot, you let out a squeal as he does it again, and then again. On the third time he starts scissoring his fingers, stretching you open pump by pump. You scrunch your eyes desperately as he starts twisting his wrist as well, the added motion has you seeing stars.
“Steve- Steven, if-if-if you- keep going I’m gonna-!” you clench around his fingers trying to halt the oncoming euphoria, he’s not even in you yet and you're already melting into his touch. He thankfully stops his motions and then you hear him zip his fly, with a quick shuffle he has his pants and boxers around his thighs.
“Can I?” he breathes, looking at you with his deep brown eyes, pleading as he holds his cock in his hand, you look over your shoulder at him, twisting so you can see him, the impressive size of him poking out from under his thumb, looking angry and expectant. You nod, biting your lip looking from his eyes to his cock.
Turning back around you lift your hips a little for an easier angle, wiggling your ass just enough, impatient. He slides himself up and down your folds pressing just a little into your clit collecting a copious amount of wetness before sweeping back up to your entrance, slowly he applies pressure, entering you with a slight burn and you both sigh.
Steven begins to rock his hips, sliding deliciously against your walls deeper and deeper until he’s fully seated, his pelvis flush with your plush ass. The brit gives two little thrusts, short and strong, brushing your cervix, sending insurmountable sparks and fire through your entire body. You moan loudly at the movement before he’s doing it again, a longer stroke out and back in, punching straight into your cervix again, pushing all the air out of your lungs with a squeaky grunt.
With both hands, Steven brings your hips up to meet his strong thrusts, as he sweeps back in, he hits your G-spot again, making you scream and jolt.
“Oh my god, Steven! Please, oh Please!” you shout between moans and groans, he quickly grabs your pillow shoving it under your hips before he’s slamming down his hands either side of you to pound into you with reckless abandon. Each time his pelvis meets your ass he gives it a lovely jiggle, it spurs Steven on more, wanting to sink his teeth into it.
Through your jibberish and blubbering you hear him; “I can tell you want me to fill you up with myself, until you’re bursting, until it’s leaking down your legs, dripping onto the floor.” Steven mutters greedily making you clench around him, spasming and fluttering around his cock, you hurriedly scream at him to release inside,
“Please! Fill me to the brim, Paint my insides with your cum! Steven Please!”
Without another word he doubles down on your G-spot, making you scream as your climax, your entire body tensing, clamping down on his cock, making him miss a beat with his thrusting and growing sloppy as he reaches his own peak. With one final effort he fully sheathes himself in your tight warmth, spilling hot ropes of cum inside your walls with a glorious grunt. He continues to lazily slide in and out of you as he softens, pulling out all the way once you stop shaking and screaming. He grabs another handful of your ass, digging his thumb into the folds to look at the mess he made, slowly beginning to drip out of you, He hums proud at his work.
With a short wiggle and a bit of movement on the bed Steven flops down next to you with a hazy smile.
“That was amazing, you are amazing.” you breathe heavily looking at him with love in your eyes, his black ones still blown out with lust.
“Thanks, love. You look so beautiful full of my cum.” He shimmies closer to plant a kiss to your lips, getting lost in their softness as you kiss him back, passion and lust making you deepen the kiss and run your fingers through his hair.
His hand runs down your leg and up your side to your breast, his warm hand tickling the softness of you. His grip on you tightens as you lick past his lips into his mouth, swirling your tongue with his. As he fondles your boobs and loses himself in your kiss you push his pants and boxers all the way down his legs prompting him to pull away to slide them all the way off, throwing them haphazardly off the bed. You bite your lip and beckon him back to you with a pinch of your nipple.
He moves to come back to you when he furrows his eyebrows with annoyance, his eyes rolling back painfully as he fights for control, his entire body shudders as he relents, when his eyes land on you again their hungrier, darker.
“Marc?” you prompt worriedly, patiently waiting to see who would take control.
“My turn.” Marc’s accent excites you and he dives on to you.
The cold press of the glass on your chest and cheek had a cancelled effect on your clammy skin, the heat radiating off you fogged the mirrored glass of your floor to ceiling mirror, breath pluming out across the smooth surface. As you press harder to the glass you grunted the force of Marc pumping his heavy cock into you raw from this standing angle, you had to screw your eyes shut as the pinpoint accuracy of his hard thrusts into your G-spot caused you to spill all sorts of chatter from your lips.
“Oh my god, Marc, right there! Oh, God!” you scream as he leans into you, pressing his chest to your back, his hand snaking up from his grip on your breast to your throat. Gently resting it there as he stoops down to your ear.
“You squeeze my cock so good! So hot, and tight!” he slows his pace, infuriating you as he edges you again, it’s the third time he’s slowed down, tears spill from your eyes, absolutely desperate to milk him for every drop he has. Steven’s last load still slick between your legs, squelching and spilling out with each thrust.
“Please, Marc, I need-” you pant, not finishing the sentence, struck down with brain scrambling pleasure. Marc’s eyes lock with yours in the mirror for a moment before focusing on something behind him, Steven you presume. It excites you to know Steven is with you even if he’s not in you, Marc’s hefty member gives you no time to consider a dream to have them both in you, if only.
Marc once again picks up the pace, removing his hand from your throat and placing it on your hips as he smashes his pelvis into yours. His brutal pace has you seeing white spots, you watch his face in the mirror as he peers down between the two of you, excited by the way you pull him back into your molten core and Steven’s load dribbling out of you. His smile filthy and smug across his face as he watches himself disappear into your folds; his eyes meet yours in the reflection.
“You can do it baby; I know you can.” His American accent thick while he flashes his pearly whites at you as he deepens his thrusts, you gasp as he pounds into a deep spot inside you that has you gasping for air; once, twice, and then you flutter and squeeze his cock so hard he gasps with wide eyes, “Fuck!”
You scream his name as you come, shouting about how well his cock fills you, how it makes you feel so full and happy. His pace drops a few thrusts as his long strokes become sloppy until he buries his entirety within your soaked wetness, twitching in you as he paints your insides with a sexy, strangled moan. The feeling of being full comes over you again with absolute euphoria.
You feel like you’re going to pass out, your legs wobble from under you, you start to slide down the mirror with him still shoved into your deepest depths. He follows you down to his knees lifting you into his lap and leans back up against the mirror, his cock still stuffed into you, not wanting to leave you just yet. You feel him continue to twitch inside as he softens, coming down from his own high, his small movements send tingles across your body.
Shakily you stand up, he watches you rise and marvels at the mess he made, his hand slides up your leg collecting some of the wetness when he sees a glob of cum drips down the inside of your thigh. Marc collects it on his finger gently pushing it back inside.
“Don’t want any to go to waste, beautiful” The American says smiling up at you, your lips turn up at the comment while your core clenches trying to keep all of him inside.
You walk into your ensuite legs still shaky from your efforts holding your body up as Marc pressed you to the mirror. You reach into the cupboard next to the sink and run it under warm water while you imagine what Steven was doing in the mirror, the look in the American’s eye as he looked back to Steven, who only he could see in the reflection, made you wild. The idea they were both thoroughly enjoying you made you feel warm and groggy. You cleaned yourself up, wiping away the sweat on your skin and excess slick from your legs.
Returning to the bedroom Marc has moved to the bed, his legs hang off the side feet firmly planted to the floor as he talks to himself, well Steven.
“She’s so good to us, I don’t want to mess it up again.” He says to Steven who must reply because he hums in response after a moment. You smile at him, at his closeness to Steven, something must have changed after Egypt, Steven rarely bled through to Marc when you’d known him, but you often looked into confused eyes when the terror of an intense moment made Marc freeze. You remembered a particular moment in Madaripur when you had been deployed as a peace keeping force after a vicious earthquake; you and Marc had been looking for a family buried in the rubble when Marc found the mother clutching her child, the mother had passed and the child didn’t survive transport, you had seen it then, when Marc had turned away, the person who turned back to you wasn’t Marc. Now that you know more about their situation you surmise it must have been Steven who had asked you why he was covered in blood, who are you? Where are we? What’s going on!?
It was a scary moment for you to see Marc’s face but not his eyes, it had only lasted a few moments and Marc was back, but that moment had stuck with you for a while, for a long time after you worried about him.
You entered the room again and sank down next to him on the bed, you could see he was hard again, ready for round two. Making it back to the bed you wrapped your hand around his length gently making heavy eye contact with him as you leaned into his side.
“Can’t get enough of me huh?” you kiss his temple, his cheek, and the side of his mouth, slowly pumping his member.
“Your hands, your boobs, glorious ass, your amazing pussy, everything about you drives me- us crazy.” The American sighs, looking down to your hand fisting his length, throwing his head back with a quiet grunt. Growing impatient with your gentleness, Marc quickly repositions you on top of him, swiping away your hand to pull you over him, straddling his hips.
You squeak at the strength of him, quickly settling over his rock hardness, rubbing yourself down on him. He growls this time, and the noise excites you, so you do it again.
“Ugh! Hang on a second!” his hands hold your hips still so he can take a proper breath, “So needy.” You bite your lip and run your fingers across the hard muscle of his abdomen, the soft skin there feeling like a dream as you tickle the little hairs trailing to the V of his hips. He wiggles his hips a little, you can feel the way his head pokes at your entrance, making you close your eyes and moan, “how’s this? Can you see?” you nod along to his voice without realising he’s not talking to you, eyelids cracking open to see him turning his head to look at the mirror, talking to Steven.
You turn to look at yourself in the mirror, you can clearly see Marc’s cock lined up with your entrance, he digs his hands into the globes of your ass to spread your cheeks, he sees it, you see it and you assume Steven sees it as he enters you again. Your strangled groans of being full again has you cursing. The stretch of him within you just as pleasurable as the first time, your slick and the two previous loads proving more than enough lube for him to start thrusting without too much of an adjustment period. This time he sets a slow languid pace, and you roll your hips on him, lifting your ass until he's almost all the way out before rolling back down, making a show of it in the mirror.
“I wish you could see Steven right now.” Marc huffs out with a short laugh, and a soft moan as you tighten around him. You only moan in response, too overwhelmed by the fullness of his intense grinds. “Cheek’s flushed, shiny with sweat, dick in his hand.” He paints the picture, and you whine at the mental image of sweet Steven jerking off to you and Marc.
“Liking the show, is he?” you strain as Marc’s thrusts start getting stronger, bucking up into you with force but still at a slow pace.
“You should hear him.” Marc chuffs, holding you down on him as his eyes roll in his head, you look to his face to see his eyebrows fly up his forehead and knit together, eyes fluttering slightly as Steven comes forward again, fully sheathed in your heat.
“Oh, you’re so warm, so sexy! Ugh, you feel amazing, so tight!” Steven’s head whips back onto the bed as words spill from him and as you start moving on your own, he screws his eyes shut, the pleasure overstimulating him. “I want to cum in you so bad, Please- ugh!” you swivel your hips, grinding down on him.
You lean down on his chest, stooping to his ear, “So do it, fill me up,” you take his earlobe in your teeth, sucking and licking down his neck as you pick up your pace, bouncing on him. Your own climax rushes up to you quicker than you expected. Everything; Marc swapping out with Steven to throw him in the deep end, Steven’s wails of ecstasy, the growing groans, and moans from him as he nears his second climax or the adorably strained expression on his face, it’s all too much. Without much other prompting you’re coming again, squeezing him tightly and fluttering around him, pushing him over the edge just as quickly; coming with a shout of your name.
You keep yourself pressed to his chest, breathing in the scent of him at the crook of his neck, the quick rise and fall of his chest calming you down and creating a tiredness within you.
You swing your leg off him, letting him slide out of you as you cuddle up to his side. Steven turns into you, resting his head on one of his arms and the other slung over your waist, he smiles at you.
“You be careful, so full of us, you might get pregnant.” Steven slides his hand up and over your hip and across your stomach, looking between you almost longingly.
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” you think out loud, hazily looking into his eyes with nothing but love. You see his expression; shock, you pull back worried you took it a bit too far maybe, until,
“Are you serious?” his eyes are huge and puppy like as he says it, a glimmer of hope with in them. You’re taken aback by the response, so soft and gentle. You may not have known Steven long but that sound, that hopeful sound made you fall in love with him.
Things with Marc at the start were purely physical but then you said something stupid like I Love You, it may or may not have been the reason he went into that fugue state all those years ago before you fell out of touch. But now, the last few weeks of knowing him again, you discovered that those feelings never really faded but just took a back burner, Steven was just an added bonus, more of Marc to love and you do. No matter what fucked up shit he went through with Khonshu or that Harrow guy, it brought him back to you and it had your head spinning.
“It’s not like I haven’t dreamed about settling down, having a few kids, you know that happy life.” You ponder aloud. Long years in the military and being discharged for disobedience, made you a little bitter and moody, but deep down you still wanted a husband, some kids, and a big house, isn’t that what most girls dream about?
“And you’d want us to be part of that?” He asks tentatively, as if he didn’t deserve it or something.
“Why not?” you kiss him then, a passionate, slow burning kiss, one he returns in kind.