She heard the ripping seconds before she felt his teeth sink into the tender flesh of her breast.  He would pay for that, and dearly, but later; hopefully, much later.  She growled low in her throat gripping his hair tightly and pulling back just a little, her words a rough, rasping command.<br/><br/>"Weapons."<br/><br/>It was a single word, but the meaning was more than clear.  Even as he continued to maul her breasts, she raked her nails through his hair, pulling just enough to hurt a little.  With her free hand, Mike pulled various knives, daggers, throwing blades and needles from their concealment about her person.  Amid groping, growling, moaning and panting, her various assortment of weapons were scattered behind them.  Only when she was free of the impliments of death did she focus her full attention on Daedric.<br/><br/>"Fuck me, Ric!" she demanded in a ragged whisper.<br/><br/>As if to emphasize her point, she brought her right leg up high, hooking it over his left hip.  She pulled him tightly to her, again pulling his hair hard enough to draw him away from her breasts.  Almost immediately, she brought her mouth to his in a fierce, hungry, devouring kiss.  She was drenched and aching.  She knew he could feel it.  Even as she pulled at his tuxedo jacket, her leg tightened around him, drawing him even closer to the proof that she was so much more than ready.