"I don't think you could," she drawls, slightly disdainful. She trails a fingertip along his jaw, down his throat. "More's the pity. It's nice to see a little backbone, husband."
Her entire being is on edge: what's genuinely 'nice', if that word can be used so inappropriately, is that it seems to be mutual. His nerves look to be jangling, too.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-04-30 11:02 pm (UTC)Her entire being is on edge: what's genuinely 'nice', if that word can be used so inappropriately, is that it seems to be mutual. His nerves look to be jangling, too.