A/N: this was quite literally written... a few years ago. Forgive the rustiness. Mostly, I just thought I'd post it for the heck of it. It's fanfic, after all.
His hand is on her breast. In frustration, disgust and so much more, she eyes him, what smile and hope she had washed away as he comments: "It seemed like the logical next step." She grits her teeth, a turn of her jaw emphatically revealing her disapproval.
"Really? I'm an idiot for being surprised," she replies, fighting to keep down the grief despite that she let him grab her ass and thanked him for it. Later, she might reflect that he did, in fact, like her breasts, and that the insincerity was a mask for romantic insecurity; right now, however, it's just idiocy, and her rationalization for the earlier action will be that she thought he was dying.
"Can you leave these?"
She ignores him and turns away, so he drops his hand. But as soon as she steps away, she feels herself dragged backwards again by her right arm, and suddenly there are lips against hers.
The violating hand is around her waist, and she is like a statue, tensed at the sudden display, until his fingertips, now free of their hold on her arm, caress her jaw. As though her muscles are triggered by a switch, she collapses into him, heart pounding as her teeth graze his, this time with passion instead of fragility. Bent arms, cocked elbows, tight fists grasping at air, all signifying partial surrender, collapse; her hands fall open, fingers splaying across his shoulders as she rises to her toes despite the pumps she's wearing. His hand caresses her spine, and she breathes him in.