[He grins, vaguely. Her fingers. He can still remember the press of them that first time he'd stumbled upon her, the heat of them, in his mouth--and just now, when she'd pressed them to his lips--and he twists his hands so he can grip back at her.]
Finally. Who are your friends?
[He doesn't look away from her, even though he's asking about them. They're not really that interesting. Whatever they're doing is tame, compared to this. He's done it. He's got her now, finally.]
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Finally. Who are your friends?
[He doesn't look away from her, even though he's asking about them. They're not really that interesting. Whatever they're doing is tame, compared to this. He's done it. He's got her now, finally.]