"if i'm good?"

he scoffs as though it's the most absurd thing he's heard.

"i'll be good if you are, cutie."

a kiss to the cheek later and he's gesturing down to the shirt.

giada morgan

☉

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"yes," she chimes.

her smile grows fuzzy and fond over the cheek kiss. and as she's pulling the shirt over her head, fabric muffles laughter.

"i don't know what you're talking about," she murmurs. her head pops out a moment later and the expression is coy. feigned innocence doesn't belong on her features. "i'm always good."

well... good when it counts, anyway.

CIAN MAHER
mission

he watches the shirt fall over her head, helping her tug it down after. it's a good fit; a bit oversized, but that just makes it perfect.

"but what if i..."

once again, he leans in to whisper.

"...wanted you to be bad?"

giada morgan

☉

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]the smile flashed is grateful for his help.

she peers around him for a moment to check out how the t-shirt looks. it's big but it covers enough, truthfully. the fabric is soft too... it just barely brushes against the tops of her thighs.

attention snaps back when he leans, when he whispers.

"could be arranged," she murmurs. the smile shifts, morphs, and takes on a more teasing manner than before. "how bad we talking, though?"

there's a sliding scale, you know.

CIAN MAHER
mission

no stranger to the sliding scale, cian raises a hand to caress her cheek, drawing down to her jaw.

"enough to be punished."

giada morgan

☉

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]touch draws her, holds her, captivates her. it’s gentler than she’s used to. and if she were daring, she’d almost say it’s affectionate… but affection is seldom reserved for her.

a light laugh escapes. the thought of punishment is, admittedly, fun.

”okay,” she murmurs as his fingers drift down to her jaw. ”not gonna use my whip on me, are you?” it’s teasing, mostly.

CIAN MAHER
mission

"i've never whipped nor have i been whiped before..."

spanked, however? a different story entirely.

"sounds fun."

his lips curl into a grin.

"later today, maybe."

giada morgan

☉

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"maybe?"

an eyebrow arches. and then, her lips stretch into a mirroring grin.

"sound like something you're into?"

her hands itch to wander. and, really, she's never been good at telling them no. they drift to his clothes, tugging slightly.

CIAN MAHER
mission

the staff of this particular store likely don't get paid enough, or they simply don't care. it's the only explanation he can think of as to why they haven't been kicked out yet.

"we'll find out."

he follows her hands to tug at his clothes, shrugging his shirt off.

giada morgan

☉

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]the shirt is shrugged off, followed by a soft hum from her throat.

"promise?"

her smile is almost too sweet for the subject matter, perhaps, but she's fishing for something there. whatever it is, she doesn't know.

her hands wander to the waist line of pants but her eyes don't follow. no, they linger on his face, as if etching it into memory for when this moment inevitably breaks.

CIAN MAHER
mission

"promise."

it's almost said too easily.

his gaze lowers briefly to the waist line of his pants before flicking back up to her.

"should i take these off, too?"

giada morgan

☉

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]one small word makes her happier than it should. and where there should be alarms, there's only butterflies, bliss, fuzziness.

her eyes follow for a moment, linger, and then drag back. fingers tighten slightly.

"yes," she murmurs.

CIAN MAHER
mission

easily, his pants fall to the floor, joining the rest of the clothes in a messy pile.

"should probably try on the other outfits..."

unless?

giada morgan

☉