It did not take much coaxing for her lips to open to his, when he kissed her the second time. Nervous thoughts still fluttered at the back of her mind, but for a moment they were hushed. She felt as if she might melt beneath his hands and under his fervent gaze. Lane wanted to know more about his past, but as he dropped another name, some of her fears clawed their way back to the surface. What had earlier been a way to tease and taunt him, his likely vast number of conquests, now felt like a reality and Lane could not help but wonder if she would be another notch on that infinite bedpost.<br/><br/>She shook her head when he mentioned jealous ex-boyfriends and her brother. She knew he mentioned Steve in jest, but her brother was still fairly protective. He and her friends had been the ones who helped her put herself back together after Donovan left her hollow and broken. The conscious decision was made to do some name dropping of her own. "Donovan's out of my life and out of the picture, you don't need to worry about exes coming out of the wood work." The words felt odd in her mouth, especially when she spoke his name. It had been so long since she had said it, she did not want to speak again. Donovan had never hit her, but for a guy that had started out so charming, something dark had lurked within.<br/><br/>Perhaps James had dealt with an actual demon, but Lane was convinced that Donovan was only a hop, skip and a jump away from that kind of true evil. The relationship had shaken her confidence and she had decided to avoid others for awhile. Maybe it was time to move on.<br/><br/>He called her Ms. Barnes, and she was not sure if it was some call back to a more polite time, or something else entirely. When he mentioned the bit about being with a man, she truly wondered if he had some preternatural abilities of his own that he was not telling her about. Maybe her scars were just close enough to the surface. No doubt she looked like a prey animal before a predator, skittish and ready to bolt. Lane closed her eyes and sucked in a slow breath, steadying herself. Her practices as a witch came mostly from the legacy of the Norse gods. Though the Christians had destroyed most of Freyja's temples and teachings because they found her to be a loathsome slut, who embraced both sex and love as vital experiences, much of it had been rediscovered. Whatever happened after this, Lane could bask in this moment and let the magic that passed between people when their bodies entwined flow through her.<br/><br/>Desire pooled low in her torso and she had to suppress a moan as it did so. Lane wanted to drink him in, to let his scent, his sounds, his body fill her. It had been so long since she had experienced this sort of pleasure and the low thrum of arousal lowered whatever inhibitions she had left. She needed this. She would deal with the consequences and the sheer bizarre nature of both this night and the man in front of her later.<br/><br/>"Lane. Call me Lan--" She began to say when his mouth again captured hers. Her legs had parted easily at his nudging, and the movement caused the skirt she wore to hike up along her hips.<br/><br/>A moan did escape her when his hips pressed against hers, she could feel the fullness of his arousal through the thin cotton of her panties. They were nothing lacy or sexy, plain black bikini cut underwear, because she had no expectation that something like this would happen when she had dressed that morning.<br/><br/>Lane pulled one of her wrists free of his grasp above her head, though she would not have minded leaving it there. The need for him to be wear far less clothing outweighed the need to stay completely pinned in his arms. The rough edge his kisses and hands had flirted with so far enticed and excited her. The fingers of her free hand found the hem of his shirt and pulled it free of his pants, then she sent them to urge the jacket he wore off his shoulders. Each piece of clothing they wore felt like a suddenly frustrating barrier to Lane, and they needed to be dealt with quickly.<br/><br/>She pulled her lips way from his and her breath came out in shallow pants. Her brown eyes watched him for a moment, curious and full with lust. Her breasts heaved with the motion of her breath, causing the white button up shirt she wore to rise and fall with each intake of oxygen.<br/><br/>"My-- My bedroom's upstairs..." She breathed. Lane felt as if he enjoyed a certain amount of control in his life and in his lovemaking, so she would provide him with the necessary information to do as he wished. She actually smirked at him then and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, head tilting to the side before she straightened again. "Or there's the desk over there. Your call." Her gaze flashed with a knowing wickedness. On other women it might have appeared more seductive or entrancing, but on Lane there still seemed to be the slightest air of innocence behind it.