An ear-to-ear grin appears, as his eyes pointedly roam across her chest and hips.
"Like what you see, big boy?" She asks, leaning forward and squeezing her shoulders together just enough to really make her cleavage pop.
"Definitely." His index finger twirls at her feet, then his fingers snap. "Red suits you." A pair of red satin panties slither down long legs. They stop, caught on stiletto straps.
"How unusual…" Gracefully untangling her left foot, she swings her left heel backwards and towards her hand. She snags the pair of panties from hip level, then stretches the underwear in front of her-like a giant lingerie rubber band. "… I wasn't wearing underwear." The panties shoot into his lap with a wink.
Clapping hands and laughing, he stalks forward herding her backwards towards the giant raised bed. "You've got style, sweetheart. Shame I have to kill you."
"Oh, the obligatory death threat!" Scarlet fingernails trail down her cleavage and curl around the fleshy globes. "Careful there, If I didn't know better... I might actually think you cared."
"Hmm... Can't have you thinking I've gone soft in my old age." Her knees hit the edge of the bed.
"Death threats are nice and all..." She purrs, hands slowly sliding the clingy fabric off her shoulders. "But, I'd much rather get down to negotiations."
"Before or after we get down, baby?" Vigorous eyebrow wiggles accompany his words.
"During." The thin dress pools in a puddle of garnet at her feet. "There's little I love more than mixing business with pleasure. Feeling up to the challenge?"
"Thought I wasn't tall enough, beansprout?"
"Height only matters when you're vertical." Tanned legs curl on the edge of the bed. She slowly leans backwards, arching her back and letting her arms splay across the sheets. "Lay with me."
He appears beside her, lounging on the bed and glass in hand. "Not exactly what I was expecting when I heard you were back on this half of the globe, tease." He snaps his fingers.
Lights dim, Marvin Gaye starts crooning, and the fireplace roars to life.
"What else were you expecting?"
"Oh, same old, same old. Fight to the death, exploding towns." He twirls the absurd mustache between his fingers.
"You seem plenty prepared." She drawls, then dips a hand into his wine and begins licking the drops off of her fingertips.
"Always, babe." He winks and catches a run-away drop with his lips.
"You know I won't let you hide away in this porno forever." One of her legs slithers around his waist, tugging him closer.
"Why not?" He smirks. "Its got everything I need! Hot babes and sweets galore!"
Her hair crackles like a coyote's yip and polished nails dig into his denim covered hips. "By the time I have taken my fill of pleasure, you shall lie panting at my feet. Then I shall rend this quaint hidey-hole and unleash you upon the world once more." She growls, nipping at his ear.
"I'm hearing lots of talk, but no action." His hand fists in her hair. He forces her head backwards, leaving her neck exposed and vulnerable.
She laughs in his face. "You practically sent me a signed invitation, trickster falso. If you desire my help, then you must give me a more satisfying hunt."
He tossed the glass aside and pounces, throwing his weight forward and pinning her on her back. His mouth blazes up and down her throat until she moans and squirms. Goosebumps trail in the wake of his hands. He nips her collarbones and eases his knee between her thighs, barely brushing against her core. She shivers and arches, scratching at his back. She wraps around him, forcing his leg firmly against her groin. Legs wrapped around him, ankles crossed.
SNAP!
Snarling with frustration, she claws at his disappearing form. Sharpened fingernails sweep through empty air.
A fake mustache floats in his wake, landing on the warm silk.