. how could you not? She's got curves that make you drool, that make your fingers itch to touch, to violate. You hate her for making you feel this way... you hate that she doesn't even realise what she does to you, that she doesn't feel how your eyes linger. She doesn't even notice how your voice changes, how it drops and drawls and takes on a lilting tone. Anything to get a reaction from her, anything to bring that look of outrage to her face, to see her hands curl into fists. Anything to prove. She forced him to look at her so she could kiss him properly. Tentatively at first, and then deeper. She sucked gently at his lower lip before he pulled back and started trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone, before meeting the top of her dress. Sir brought a hand up and gently cupped her breast through the fabric, eliciting a small moan. His other hand he brought down under her dress, his hand on her thigh making her squirm with delight. As he brought it higher, he. More

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