<span style="font-family:Philosopher">She had fire, this woman with the flame touched hair. For she surely was no meek lass, was she? Her body strained against his and he found himself suddenly locking his fingers through her hair and pulling her head back. He pulled his lips from hers reluctantly but only to begin his exploration that had been so rudely interrupted earlier. The line of her jaw was exquisite and teased the edge of her throat with delicate precision. As his teeth nipped at an earlobe, he abandoned her ears to travel South, ever South, once more. Beneath his lips he could feel the heated pounding of the blood so easily within reach and he felt his eyes darken suddenly as he felt the urge to sink teeth in and feel that crimson flood fill his mouth.<br/>
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With a groan, he resisted the urge. She would take it as a sound of pleasure and not the one of dejection that it truly was.<br/>
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His hands traced down her sides, coming to her hips before suddenly going lower to grip the upper half on the outside of her thighs. With long practice, he spread them further and ground his hips against her mound even further, his obvious tumescence straining against the thin fabric of her panties. He had not halted his steady advance from her throat, more of a retreat from the overwhelming desire to end her life now and there than an ordered march. The delicate line of her collarbone was bliss beneath his lips but he did not stop there. There were other, more tender places that required his ministrations. And he soon found them as, first, his lips began to ascend to the peak of one breast, the tender flesh begging for attention. <br/>
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He almost cried out in joy when his lip finally grazed the peak of one soft breast and he eagerly wrapped lips around the point and bit down gently. Sucking softly, his left hand traced up her body once more and gripped the other, lonely breast in an insistent and slightly rough grip, thumb and forefinger pinching nipple.</span>