Yeah, trusting Deadlock is normally a terrible idea. Unless...he's getting something he wants. And right now, he wants this, probably more than he's wanted anything in his life.
Maybe it's the cyberdrenaline or something that's battered down his barriers. He'll come up with a rationalization later. Right now, he wants to concentrate on the taste of her throat cables, clean and well-oiled, pinching one fuel line between his dentae just a little bit, to feel it flex under his fierce kiss.
His whole body jolts as she reaches for his spike, which throbs against her fingers, his hips almost vibrating with tension. He feels, yeah, tense, wound tight, like something about to explode.
"This," he mutters against her throat, his palms gliding around her hips, fingertips probing into the gaps, "is all your fault." Just for the record. This is on you. All of it. Including the fact that he can't keep his hands off you.
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Maybe it's the cyberdrenaline or something that's battered down his barriers. He'll come up with a rationalization later. Right now, he wants to concentrate on the taste of her throat cables, clean and well-oiled, pinching one fuel line between his dentae just a little bit, to feel it flex under his fierce kiss.
His whole body jolts as she reaches for his spike, which throbs against her fingers, his hips almost vibrating with tension. He feels, yeah, tense, wound tight, like something about to explode.
"This," he mutters against her throat, his palms gliding around her hips, fingertips probing into the gaps, "is all your fault." Just for the record. This is on you. All of it. Including the fact that he can't keep his hands off you.