Casual sex
Spuffy Drabble. Set in MIDS6.
" Don't fight me"
He growls gritting his teeth while he makes his way with difficulty inside her.
"I have to "
She answers against his pale neck as she wriggles again under his weight. The cold hardness of his body (corpse, she corrects herself in her mind) is causing a delicious shiver through any and every part of her.
The bruising friction of his mock-coerced entrance is amplified by her struggling and she can't help to admit… it's so much better this way.
If he would be a 'want' and not a 'need', this would be wrong.
She craves him like the rush of patrolling and the stillness of midnight: with the intensity we only spare for all what is beneath us.