( has she? perhaps she has enslaved him — he is hers, and she belongs to him in turn. she chooses, each and every time, to come to him, to claim him as her own. after all, there is value is fighting for the one person that she truly desires; and sylus know that better than anyone else.

he is her prize, her beloved, the man that she craves even when his kisses are still warm on her lips, pleasure like warm honey in her veins, settling sweetly in her chest. she's licking her lips when they part, chasing the taste of him. then his fingers gently touch the crease in her brows, and she can't help but relax and melt into him, even if it's uncomfortable when he's just so big and this ridiculously expensive, sexy car is still.

she's making a soft, impatient sound, her cheeks and ears burning up before she pulls back, her gaze going right down to where he's tenting his trousers. that cock clearly demands attention and release, but it's his words that make her shiver with anticipation and yearning. sylus is already hers, but now he is still out of reach.

she makes a choice, settling into her seat, but her hand is resting high on his thigh, fingers barely brushing against the bulge while she gives the boss of onychinus' leg a meaningful squeeze. )

And still I want you more than ever. Drive much faster, or I'm going to test just how good you are at driving with my mouth wrapped tight around you.

( she's not sure if the threat of giving him road head might backfire, but she's eager to find out. )