Dianna fisted his t-shirt, dragging him closer, and he deepened the kiss. Her fingers let go slowly, before coasting up over his shoulders to tangle in the long hair at his nape. He groaned. It felt so fucking good to have her hands in his hair. It felt so fucking good to have her body pressed against his.

     He was already hard, a fact he was sure she noticed, but if it bothered her, she didn’t let on. Instead, she pressed harder against him, rubbing herself against him like a cat and he couldn’t complain. She felt good, so bloody good he thought for sure he was going to die.

     ...