I don't, [ he answers, and she knows well that he never does, but it gets to him anyway, ricochets up the stakes just how she wants it to. an answering hum of his gets pressed to her skin, one that frays at the edges as the sound of her moan starts to take him apart at the seams.

but he's bad at heeding warnings. he's good at weighing and assessing them, at coming up with a plan, but to actually back off is not in his nature. it's possible for someone to stumble upon them, but they'll hear footsteps, or a door, or the lights will flicker on and give them a real warning, so for now, it only ups the urgency. they'll take advantage of what moments they have.

he easily follows the roll of her hips, his growing hardness pressing to her heat, that satin loosening the slide between them in a teasing, frustrating way. but her warm touch makes up for it, then the prickle of her nails making his voice hitch, and before her words are even out, his hand untangles from her hair and trails down the side of her neck, over the mount of a breast, down the curve of her waist before sliding beneath the satin. his fingers tease at the edge of the satin at her hip and follows it along the inner bend. ]

I know, [ he breathes, pulling back just enough to slide his hand between them, to cup her at her core. ] You've had this on all night--you must've been thinking about it, hm? How fucking crazy you'd make me when you finally told me?