words have never been their forte. she acquiesces quickly as his fingers find their way to her hair. that smirking grin is forcibly shifted, lashes fluttering and half-closing as she meets him with fervor. 

she can't hear the elevator door opening and closing any longer. just the sound of tongue and flesh and a deep, awful need to make him shudder. a moan rises in her throat. spit dribbles down her chin. 

coaxing him doesn't take long. he'd already been close. and by the time she's standing back on her feet, legs a bit shaky, she's panting and wiping her chin with a swipe of her thumb.

"mm, i told you - i won't let you ruin this dress."

KING WAYLAND

☉

her gaze flickers down, confused when he claims he isn't done. then he shoves her around, pushes her ankle, and a warmth spreads over her nose. she hates how much she likes when he tosses her around, welcomes the slap of flesh against the wall, the huff of dull pain and anticipation as he tears away her control. 

eyes close as breathy pants and begged obscenities slip from her mouth. teeth graze her lip, sink in deeper until she is left palming the wall with sweaty hands, grasping for anything of purchase while he drinks his fill. then shuddering, his hands pillars that hold her aloft as heat races through her. 

after, she turns on him, legs folding not of her own volition. her arms come around his shoulders, fingers curved under his jaw. and she has no words, really, because she is still weak in the knees and she hasn't had enough, not really. 

she greedily shoves her mouth against his, tasting herself on his tongue.

her kisses are messy and wanton, deep enough to invite lust back through the door. and only then, entangled as they are, does she withdraw. she peels away her dress and tosses it to the floor, stepping back through the open elevator doors, into the hallway and towards his bedroom.

the drunks downstairs will be fine for a couple hours more.

KING WAYLAND

☉