Either Slaine conveniently forgot about the promise of not giving Sheryl any hickeys, or he purposely ignored it in favor of marking his territory so to speak — in character. A cruel, ruthless commander from the secret police would never heed his prisoner's wants, of course. He can feel her tensing up beneath his mouth and fingers, blood rushing to his face more and more until the heat is suffocating. But something snaps his eyes open, a risk that he'd known it happen but it's enough for him to yelp.
Sheryl just bit his finger. This turns out to be a bad idea, after all.
Instantly, he yanks both hands away from her body, his lone glove now soiled with wet droplets, and quickly rushes over to a table. With the cup of icy cold water in his trail of vision, Slaine shoves his finger into it and sighs in relief, the throbbing pain slowly subsiding. His girlfriend really is committed to her role, isn't she?
While he still has his back turned to her, he carefully pulls the glove off and tosses it to the floor, his hat following suit. The sounds of buttons coming undone and extra ruffling of clothes fill the silence until his jacket and tie flutter down to join his gloves and hat. Slaine continues staring at the cup of water, his reflection morphed into the surface, until he brings the cup with him. Another idea forms in his head as he tips his head back to take a quick sip, a small trail of water sliding down from his lips, and undoes the first three buttons of his shirt, exposing his collarbone.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-11-21 03:22 am (UTC)Sheryl just bit his finger. This turns out to be a bad idea, after all.
Instantly, he yanks both hands away from her body, his lone glove now soiled with wet droplets, and quickly rushes over to a table. With the cup of icy cold water in his trail of vision, Slaine shoves his finger into it and sighs in relief, the throbbing pain slowly subsiding. His girlfriend really is committed to her role, isn't she?
While he still has his back turned to her, he carefully pulls the glove off and tosses it to the floor, his hat following suit. The sounds of buttons coming undone and extra ruffling of clothes fill the silence until his jacket and tie flutter down to join his gloves and hat. Slaine continues staring at the cup of water, his reflection morphed into the surface, until he brings the cup with him. Another idea forms in his head as he tips his head back to take a quick sip, a small trail of water sliding down from his lips, and undoes the first three buttons of his shirt, exposing his collarbone.