That single whisper of "good girl" sent Zoe Pierce's nerves into a frenzy.
It was a voice caught between that of a mature man and a younger one, laced with urgent desire.
Miles Sherman was enjoying her initiative.
Her chest pressed against his as her kneeling legs gave way, and she settled down on her heels.
A large hand wrapped tightly around her back. Her hair, originally tied up, had come loose and was threatening to fall completely free.
His long fingers took the initiative, pulling the tie from her hair. Her ink-black locks cascaded down, spilling over Zoe Pierce's slender back. He threaded his fingers through the strands, cupping the back of her head.
They were like two snakes, necks intertwined, tangled together.
Slowly, they rubbed against each other, inseparable.
Suddenly, Aaron Xavier's voice crackled over the mecha's comms channel: "What are you two doing right now?"
"Miles. Zoe Pierce."
