She laughs and runs her hand over his side, his hip. Then over to his back, fingers pressing into muscle. She leans more of her weight into him, leg pressing firmly against his drunken boner.
His hand strokes down her side until he can reach her thigh, and he pulls it up and around his so he can grind in between her legs... or as close as he can clumsily get, anyway.
Jill's breath hitches on the edge of a laugh, and it's such an abrupt sensation it makes her need to cough to right the air in her throat. He's wasted. Cute, but wasted.
Even if he's drunk, she can't help but be moved. This time last year, he would never be able to have this conversation, even with a whole bar's worth of bottles in him.
"Our future. A baby." Or two or three, whatever. She doesn't fight being rolled, reaching up to run her hands over his body wherever she can reach once on her back.
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"I'd miss these strong arms and broad chest," she murmurs. "There's no substitute for them."
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“I am very strong,” he says into her hair. “You will never meet another man as strong.”
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"Indeed. No man can compare to you. I'm glad you put your strength to good use, Clive."
Slaying monsters and getting plastered.
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She got two I love yous. She has to ask, even as she presses her leg into him. He's cute when drunk and horny.
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He sighs, content.
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"Do you love me more than that cheeseburger from down the road?"
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He stretches his back a bit, grinding against her in the process.
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"I don't sleep deeply unless you're in this bed."
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“Are you going to sleep deeply tonight?” he asks. “If I’m keeping you awake…”
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"Besides, my husband can keep me up all he likes."
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His hand strokes down her side until he can reach her thigh, and he pulls it up and around his so he can grind in between her legs... or as close as he can clumsily get, anyway.
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He's sort of more against her inner thigh, but that's fine. Jill quietly shifts her hips so he's flush against her. Better.
"I would like to go hunting with you before the year is over."
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“I’ll take you.”
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"Perhaps you'll share a drink with me, next time."
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He's drunk, she can have whatever she wants.
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"Whatever? Really? So, I was thinking Torgal could use a friend..."
One hound is more than enough for them, but she can't help herself with the teasing.
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"You are incredibly precious right now."
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"I'm always precious to you," he says. "As you are to me."
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"How much thought have you given that, exactly?"
Even if he's drunk, she can't help but be moved. This time last year, he would never be able to have this conversation, even with a whole bar's worth of bottles in him.
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Babies? Being precious?
He rolls her over so he can be atop her.
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