Maeve
Her lips curl and a breath of a laugh pushes past them. He's not wrong. He is paying for her company. This is merely an exchange of goods and services. Even if she enjoys the game. Maeve gazes up at him, waiting for him to make his move and he does move. Just not in the way she was expecting. Instead of a kiss, she's gifted something else entirely as he strips his shirt over his head. Eyes drop down to the now exposed skin and she drinks it in eagerly, licking her lips. My she looks forward to exploring each little dip and divot further. In due time.
Maeve reaches out, taking the shirt from him and making a show of holding it up. It's warm to the touch and smells of the sea and his musk. Delicious. "Maybe I'll wear it for you when you come back." She drawls, draping it over her arm and meeting his eyes once more.
Maeve reaches out, taking the shirt from him and making a show of holding it up. It's warm to the touch and smells of the sea and his musk. Delicious. "Maybe I'll wear it for you when you come back." She drawls, draping it over her arm and meeting his eyes once more.
when you are not fed love on a silver spoon
you learn to lick it off of knives
you learn to lick it off of knives
