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“Consider my thoughts resting entirely on you,” he assures her. He runs a hand down her back. “And I owe you an apology as well — I should not have embarrassed you by speaking out of frustration.”

Jill hums. The cat's out of the bag, if it was really ever there to begin with. She pulls back just enough to look up at him.

He went to her, he said. He kissed (who he thought) was her.

"You can make it up to me, I'm sure."

He has the decency to look a little sheepish; he knows he’s been jealous and tetchy, but getting caught in it is half the fun. He meets her eyes.

“Should I tonight over again?” he suggests. “A new approach, perhaps…”

"Please," Jill sighs, eager to put it behind her. "I'd hate to think I missed out on time with you."

Not just sex. Company. She's trying to be better about that.

“Back to bed with you, then,” he says, and he leans in to press a glancing kiss to her temple again. “I’ll be up in a moment.”

Her touch lingers on him until she has to step away, shrugging off her robe as she heads up the stairs and into her room.

Torgal is nowhere to be seen, but she curls up on her bed and pretends to be asleep, anyway. At least Luis came to his senses before anything could really happen with Clive.

He doesn’t wait long to follow — it’s part wanting to keep momentum going and part seeing the underside of her ass as she heads up the stairs, the hem of her nightdress fluttering behind her. There can’t be any second guessing.

So he goes up the stairs and down the short hallway to her room, and this time he doesn’t knock. He just lets himself in, quiet as a spy, padding across the floor until he’s looming over her bed.

This isn’t how it went, before. But this time, he knows she wants him.

Jill senses his approach, expecting him. She makes a show of stretching out in her bed, eyes closed, easing out some of the residual tension that must have bled into her muscles and joins while Luis wondered if Clive was going to murder him or not.

One eye cracks open.

It's a good thing she was never asked to act.

"Oh, Clive. What are you doing here at this hour?"

“I’m starved for company in that basement,” he says. The dark makes him want to whisper, and it comes out accordingly, just a lovely, low sound. He doesn’t wait for an invitation to climb into bed with her. He doesn’t curl up with her, or spoon her, or even hold her. He just kneels over her, weight on his hands, knees on either side of hers, like he might lower himself down on her at a moment’s notice. “I hope you don’t mind.”

She shakes her head, looking up at him. She reaches up to touch his face because she can never resist when it's near hers.

"I'd never wish for you to feel lonely. Not when I'm here."

She drops the act a little, smiling.

"Is that why you came in here earlier tonight? Truly?"

“No,” he says, with a small smile, his gaze soft despite the hard line of his shoulders as he holds himself over her. “I wanted you, and your company.”

The smile reaches her eyes, making it plain as day that she likes what she's heard.

"You owe me a kiss, if I'm not mistaken."

“Just to be sure,” he says, a chuckle slipping from him as he lowers himself by an inch, his knee between hers, “I’ll ask you to tell me a story that just the two of us know.”

Tease. She rests a hand on his hip, the act so familiar as she's done it a hundred times.

"I have so many," she says, letting her fingers slip under the hem of his shirt to touch skin, but just barely. "But one day here, you and I found a very naughty room in a book store. It was quite inspiring."

One of their last good days together.

There’s a pleased rumble from the back of his throat, and he bends to her to give her a brief but longing kiss before saying:

“I ought to show you what I would have done next, had we not been interrupted.”

Her head lifts from the mattress, trying to follow the kiss as he pulls away.

"Will you?" That sounds promising. She slides her hand under his shirt to feel his abdomen, and it's easy to forget the events of the night.

"I will," he says, just barely missing reconnecting that kiss. He has other places for his mouth to be, though he lingers for a second longer just to let her feel him –– to feel her feeling him. He looks her dead in the eyes with the faintest smile. "May I?"

"You may."

It's easy to keep his gaze.

"But I want you to think of a request for me. Tell me a desire. I'll see if you've earned it."

She runs her hand over his side, very aware of how his mind will draw a blank. She doesn't mean for this to be complicated, and so she adds with a smile, "Please."

She always wants to know, and time and time again, he’s resented having to consider his own desires, and the inevitable disappointment she’ll feel when he has nothing to offer. But it’s not so tonight — the answer is so close at hand that he just leans in towards her again, into that touch. He’d like to think his slow reply is more about it being embarrassing to voice than anything else.

“When you’re well and satisfied and had your fun,” he says. “Tie me up.”

It’s been so fucking long. There’s the briefest tension in his jaw, anticipation.

“Keep me as long as you have use for me, even if it’s just for my cock.”

There's the slightest lift of her brows--it's not surprise about the request itself, it's that he actually gave her one without her needing to dig and prod. Her smile soon follows, playful and fond.

"If you're good to me... I'll consider it."

“I’ll be good,” he promises, and he decides to make good on that immediately. He leans back down to kiss her, again brief, this time teasing, as he immediately moves to kiss down her throat, and then downward still.

The brief kisses are frustrating, but she can't try to steal another when he's moving down her body. Is that being good? She's not sure. She does like the burn of his scruff against her neck.

"When I was getting ready to bed, I hoped you would come visit me," she tells him. What she did not hope for was Luis in her body, and she in his. It feels like a strange dream.

“You must have felt me considering it,” he murmurs, against her skin. A big palm roves up her ribs, rumpling the sleek satin of her nightdress, finding a breast to grope. He presses a kiss to her sternum. He breathes in the scent of her skin. “I wanted to.”

She sighs, running her hand up and down his forearm. Her breast fits perfectly into his palm.

"How do you know you didn't sense my desire?" She teases. "I nearly went back downstairs to ask you to talk to me until I fell asleep, if nothing else."

To share his day and his thoughts with her. It would have been enough.

“I would readily believe you have that power,” he murmurs, his bangs brushing her collarbone. He shifts his weight back onto his knees, freeing his other hand to join in feeling her up. “What would you have me say to you?”

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LMAO

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