Who Has to know?
Their lips came together in a fiery dance. Hers caressed his, and all he could do was comply. It had always been this way. She'd always been the dominant one, the bossy one. But now things had shifted. He'd been the protector to someone, and she was beginning to see him in that way too. There was more give and take.
His thoughts were disrupted when she began doing that –thing- with her tongue on his neck and he could feel his eyes starting to roll to the back of his head. He reached his hands up to shove the dress off her shoulders—where she'd managed to find clothes in this dump escaped him but she had. His hands roughly grabbed her bare shoulders and jerked her up before spinning her around so she was the one against the wall.
She gasped, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth while almost ripping the dress all the way off her. She whimpered against his mouth, unused to this sort of thing. But it made her dizzy and weak in the knees. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders and set to work on his buttons while he attached his lips to her neck and worked his way down to the valley between her breasts. He reached back to unhook her bra, and she let him. Once her bra was off he attached himself to her right nipple, his hand coming up to give attention to the other. She was arching into him, pulling at his hair and moaning his name. He loved it, he always wanted her to need him.
"Rory, Rory, Rory." She was calling his name, and from that sound alone he could come undone. He reached down to the jewel between her legs, his hand pushing aside her underwear to rub at her outer folds before diving into her center, curling and hitting that exact spot to where she was now screaming his name and he could feel her clenching around his fingers and and and.
"OI! Stupid face. Wake up, we've got work to do." She yelled in the real world, and he came up from his dreams with a raging hard on for his lovely wife.