miranda says nothing..only a simple look into Marlowe’s eyes while he slicks his thumb over her lip. A short silence follows, until he asked something that she could answer. ❝Figure you out? Perhaps I am. Not a great deal, however. I like you in your mysterious glory. ❞
“Oh what a relief! I’m allergic to D & M talk, and it goes against my religion as well. Thanks for being considerate for my well-being — ” A deep, passionate kiss was granted. Don’t mind his hands. They can be a little fidgety sometimes.
❝i can tell.❞ she sounds with ephemeral voice. With that, she falls silent, his lips kneading her while hands fumble around. Perhaps this wasn’t the best thing for them to delve into but neither of them cared not about the consequences. She falls into a dangerous pit, as Him, the creator of chaos and evil, dived head first into malicious, dirty lust as she guides her hand to his jawline.
