Fic: High Stakes (Hermione/Kingsley)
Title: High Stakes
Characters/Pairings: Kingsley/Hermione
Rating: Adult
Summary: Hermione and Kingsley play poker
Word Count: 2680
A/N: If you enjoy Kingsley/Hermione, go here to read my gift fic from cordeliadelayne! It’s awesome. I hope you enjoy this, hon!
cordeliadelayne’s prompt: Strip poker
There is a pile of chips by Hermione’s right hand after three rounds of poker. She hasn’t ever played the game before, but the rules were explained, and she’s proving to be a natural. It’s a nice feeling since games are not necessarily one of her strengths. Obviously, she can appreciate the irony of having to have a wizard explain the rules of a Muggle card game to her, but she hadn’t had much need to play card games before attending Hogwarts. It’s little surprise that Kingsley and Bill would know the rules more than she would.
It’s just the three of them playing now. Fleur has folded and gone to the loo, giving Bill a look that indicates they probably won’t be staying for much longer. Harry and Ginny already left, needing to pick up baby James from Molly’s before too late, and Ron went home shortly after they did, needing to clean up before meeting a date for drinks. Her suspicion is proven correct when Fleur comes back, and Bill folds. They say their goodbyes, leaving her as Kingsley’s last guest.
“I guess I should go, too, before I overstay my welcome,” she says, hesitant to leave because she enjoys spending time with Kingsley. One of the only negative aspects of quitting her position at the Ministry to open an advocacy business with Astoria and Padma is not being able to see him so often and work with him on various projects. Of course, that’s probably why it’s best that she did quit, since it’s ridiculous to be infatuated with her boss, especially when he’s the Minister of Magic. Even if he wasn’t, though, he’s over a dozen years older than her, and he’s been named Witch Weekly’s most eligible bachelor for eight years running.
“Stay,” he says simply, pulling the cards across the table and shuffling them. “I’m enjoying your company. It’s much less hostile than it normally is these days.”
“I’m not hostile!” She frowns at him. “I’ve just been pointing out some of the laws that still need evaluated and changed because they’re unfair and prejudiced. My clients pay me to speak on their behalf, to make them heard, and I take my job seriously.”
Kingsley ducks his head, but she still sees the flash of a grin on his lips. “You are very passionate about your work, Hermione. It’s an admirable trait. Now, should we play another round or are you interested in upping the stakes?”
“Upping the stakes?” She’s suspicious because Kingsley was in Ravenclaw for a reason. He’s far too clever and he’s cunning enough that she’d believe the sorting hat had difficultly choosing between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. She looks at the very small pile of plastic chips beside him then at her pile, which is substantially larger. “What do you have in mind?”
“Just a different variation on the game we’ve been playing.” Kingsley looks at her with an intense stare that makes it difficult to look away. “It gets tedious to continue playing the same thing without any escalation, wouldn’t you agree? I think we’ve had enough time with learning the rules, figuring out how things work together, making sure there’s interest from both parties. Years, in fact.”
“I don’t understand,” she reluctantly admits, hating that she has to have him explain himself. “Years? I only learned how to play tonight.”
Kingsley laughs, the sound deep and husky in a way that makes her want to hear it more often. “You’ve been playing your game for much longer than that, little girl,” he informs her. “Shall I deal?”
“Wait. What are the rules?” she asks, still trying to figure out what he’s talking about. It’s not poker if he’s talking about years, but she doesn’t play any other games.
“Too late to back out now. I already dealt.” Kingsley smirks as he looks at his cards. “The only change in rules is that we stop using chips. Instead, we use clothes.”
Hermione licks her lips and shifts in her chair. “Clothes?”
“Muggles call it Strip Poker. It adds a different element to the game, wouldn’t you say?” Kingsley arches a brow, and Hermione slowly begins to understand what he means about escalation.
How foolish of her to take so long to figure it out. She’s twenty-six years old, after all, and she isn’t a shy little virgin who doesn’t know anything about sex. The idea that Kingsley is flirting with her is unexpected, though, so she shouldn’t blame herself too much for being confused. Now that she knows what game he’s truly playing, she can be a worthy opponent. “Yes, I’d certainly agree.”
“I’m discarding two,” Kingsley tells her, placing two cards on the table and choosing two more. His focus is different than before. With the others, he’d been relaxed and almost playful. Now, he’s serious and concentrating in a way that has her wondering if he’s that eager to have her strip.
“I’ll take one,” she says, knowing she has a strong hand. “Do we bet?”
“We could or we could play with the rules that the loser just removes an article of clothing. What do you prefer?” Kingsley glances up from his cards to look at her.
She’d prefer for him to be naked and hopefully to spend the night in his bed, if that’s where he’s leading them, but she can’t exactly bet that. “An article of clothing makes sense,” she decides, knowing that is likely to take longer, too.
They reveal their cards, and she has the highest hand. He rolls his eyes when she smirks at him. “Fine.” He stands up and takes off a shoe.
“That isn’t clothing,” she tells him, smiling sweetly when he looks at her. “Are you trying to break the rules, Minister?”
“Don’t be so smug, little girl. Next time, it’ll be you,” he warns, removing his other shoe before he deliberately takes his time pulling off a sock. Once his foot is bare, he arches a brow. “Satisfied?”
“Very.” Hermione licks her lips before she shuffles the cards and deals their next hand.
She loses two in a row, so her socks are soon on the floor. When he loses the next one, his last sock joins the pile. Hermione thinks about what she’s wearing and knows the next loss will require a major article of some sort. Fortunately, she’s got at least one article of clothing more than him, since he’s just wearing a shirt, trousers, and underpants. She’s also got her bra to count.
He wins the next hand and smirks at her. “You lose. What are you taking off?” He unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and leans back to watch her strip.
It takes her a moment to stop staring at the dark skin he’s revealed, trying to determine if that’s chest hair or just a shadow from how the shirt is lying against his skin. After a moment of consideration, she smiles. She reaches under her shirt and shifts around, tugging and unclasping until she’s pulling her bra out of a sleeve. It feels daring to be sitting across from him with her bra now on the floor beside them. Her nipples are hard, pressing against the fabric of her shirt whenever she moves, and her breasts are tingling, aching in a way, and she knows it’s because she wants his hands on them.
His eyes are dark when he deals the next hand, and she notices his gaze drop down to her breasts several times. She bites her lip, moving in a way that draws more attention to her chest. He’s either distracted or has a bad hand because he loses the next one. “Not many more to go, little girl,” he murmurs, standing up and making a show of unbuttoning his shirt, dragging his fingers over the dark skin he reveals when he pulls the shirt open. There is hair on his chest, and his nipples are hard buds that have her flicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth because she wants to lick them.
When he sits back down, she deals. “You’d better focus then, old man. Your trousers are next,” she says confidently, giving him a challenging look as she leans forward and deliberately lets her shirt gape open enough for him to see her breasts. She listens to his sharp intake of breath, rubbing her legs together as she feels the tension between them build to another level.
“I don’t think so, little girl.” Kingsley clears his throat and takes another three cards. When they reveal, she’s lost, and he smiles smugly. “What’s it going to be? Shirt or trousers?”
Hermione stands up and unfastens her trousers. Taking a page out of his book, she slowly pushes them down, making sure to do so in a way that makes him unable to look away from her breasts. Thank Merlin she wore that shirt tonight. It isn’t sexy or anything, but it’s loose in a comfortable way that also causes the gaping when she leans over too much. Once she has stepped out of her trousers, she’s left in her shirt and knickers.
“Those are sexy knickers you’ve been hiding away, Hermione.” Kingsley is staring at her in a way that makes her understand what prey must feel like before being attacked.
“These old things?” She deliberately pulls the shirt up enough to show off her knickers, reaching down to stroke the silk and lace while he’s watching. Her finger strays to the crotch, which she’s unsurprised to find damp.
“Sit your arse down and play cards, little girl.” Kingsley is almost growling, and she smirks as she sits down, knowing she’s affected him. It’s little surprise that he loses the next round, not getting more than one card for a dismal hand.
“Take them off, old man.” Hermione leans forward and watches him eagerly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning when the trousers are pushed down to reveal muscular legs that she knows must be strong. She looks him over, his body suiting that of a hard working auror but completely out of place on a Minister who spends so much time in meetings and shuffling paperwork around. He’s bloody gorgeous, and he knows it judging by the smug smile on his face.
“Would you like for me to turn around?” He smirks and does it before she can reply, showing off a muscular back and broad shoulders and an arse that she thinks she could easily bounce a knut off. When he faces her again, she drops her gaze to his groin and can’t stop the groan from passing her lips. There’s a large bulge pressing against the fabric of his underpants, and she rubs her legs together as she stares at it. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions, little girl.”
Hermione doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know her face is flushed. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks, and her nipples are so hard she’s surprised they’re not poking holes in the fabric of her shirt. Her knickers are damp and getting wetter as she looks at him. She runs her fingers through her hair before she nods at the cards. “Your deal.”
Kingsley sits down, but he’s staring at her and she’s staring at him. Neither of them care that much who loses this round because they know they’re at the edge and about to tumble over. When she sees the losing hand in front of her, she swallows and looks at him as she reaches for the hem of her shirt. “No,” he says, shaking his head as he stands up. In three quick steps, he’s on her side of the table, his hands on hers. “Let me.”
“Kingsley…are you sure?” she asks, wanting to make sure they’re both clear about what’s going to happen. “I don’t do one night stands.”
“Neither do I,” he points out, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m not much for casual, either.”
“Agreed.” She looks down at their hands and smiles. “Well, are you going to take off my shirt or stand there all night, old man?”
“You’ve got a lot of cheek, little girl.” He pushes her shirt up and over her head, throwing it on the pile of clothes beside them. They’re now both in their knickers, and she isn’t sure what to do next. He leans in and kisses her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her warm skin. “Your deal.”
She blinks at him and watches him sit back down, obviously hard enough that his underwear isn’t even able to hold him all, but he wants to play another round. “You’re an arse,” she mutters, sitting down and reaching for the cards. He just chuckles but ignores her as he looks at his hand.
“I want to up the ante,” he decides. “Knickers and your mouth on my cock if I win.”
“Seriously?” She arches a brow and looks at her own hand, which is strong. “Fine. Underpants and your mouth on my cunt when I win.”
“When?” He snorts. “Confident, aren’t you, little girl?”
“We’ll see how smug you are when I’m riding your tongue, old man.” They reveal their cards together, and she grins when she sees she’s beat him. “I reckon it’s beginner’s luck, huh?”
Kingsley rolls his eyes as he stands up and pushes his underpants down. He’s bloody huge compared to most the men she’s shagged, but about comparable with Ron, who was her first. She wiggles in her chair as another wave of arousal spreads over her because she’s soon going to have that lovely cock buried inside her, and she can’t wait.
“I think you look sexy on your knees, Kingsley,” she says, admiring the graceful way he kneels in front of her. He huffs out a laugh against her thigh but doesn’t say anything as he kisses his way higher. Hermione arches up off the chair when he tugs on her knickers, letting him pull them off now that their game is over, and she’s the winner.
His tongue feels so bloody good against her clit, and she slouches more in the chair so he has better access to her. He is focused on his task with the same intensity he focuses on everything, and she’s soon biting her lip and moaning as he laps at her cunny and fucks her with his tongue. His hands are gripping her arse, holding her up so he can lick her better, and she whines because she’s unable to press any closer to get the friction she wants. Finally, he starts sucking on her clit, sliding two large fingers inside her, curling them and twisting them as she rolls her hips.
When she comes, she shudders and tightens around the three fingers now inside her cunt. She’s still trembling when he pulls his fingers out and grips her arse, wetness rubbing against her skin as he stands up, lifting her out of the chair and slamming her against the wall. He slides into her, stretching her even more than his fingers had, and they’re kissing as he fucks her, tongues stroking in rhythm with his thrusts. She doesn’t even come down from her orgasm before his fingers and cock are driving her to another.
He feels so good, better than she even imagined, and she loses herself in the sensations and emotions as they fuck. It’s much later, after another go in the shower and a lazy time exploring and learning each other that she’s finally able to think again. She’s curled up against him, lying on her side with him spooning her from behind, his strong arms wrapped around her. He’s sleeping, making soft noises as he holds her close. Hermione smiles and closes her eyes. There’ll be plenty of time for thinking in the morning. Right now, she just wants to sleep and enjoy him holding her tight.
End
Characters/Pairings: Kingsley/Hermione
Rating: Adult
Summary: Hermione and Kingsley play poker
Word Count: 2680
A/N: If you enjoy Kingsley/Hermione, go here to read my gift fic from cordeliadelayne! It’s awesome. I hope you enjoy this, hon!
cordeliadelayne’s prompt: Strip poker
There is a pile of chips by Hermione’s right hand after three rounds of poker. She hasn’t ever played the game before, but the rules were explained, and she’s proving to be a natural. It’s a nice feeling since games are not necessarily one of her strengths. Obviously, she can appreciate the irony of having to have a wizard explain the rules of a Muggle card game to her, but she hadn’t had much need to play card games before attending Hogwarts. It’s little surprise that Kingsley and Bill would know the rules more than she would.
It’s just the three of them playing now. Fleur has folded and gone to the loo, giving Bill a look that indicates they probably won’t be staying for much longer. Harry and Ginny already left, needing to pick up baby James from Molly’s before too late, and Ron went home shortly after they did, needing to clean up before meeting a date for drinks. Her suspicion is proven correct when Fleur comes back, and Bill folds. They say their goodbyes, leaving her as Kingsley’s last guest.
“I guess I should go, too, before I overstay my welcome,” she says, hesitant to leave because she enjoys spending time with Kingsley. One of the only negative aspects of quitting her position at the Ministry to open an advocacy business with Astoria and Padma is not being able to see him so often and work with him on various projects. Of course, that’s probably why it’s best that she did quit, since it’s ridiculous to be infatuated with her boss, especially when he’s the Minister of Magic. Even if he wasn’t, though, he’s over a dozen years older than her, and he’s been named Witch Weekly’s most eligible bachelor for eight years running.
“Stay,” he says simply, pulling the cards across the table and shuffling them. “I’m enjoying your company. It’s much less hostile than it normally is these days.”
“I’m not hostile!” She frowns at him. “I’ve just been pointing out some of the laws that still need evaluated and changed because they’re unfair and prejudiced. My clients pay me to speak on their behalf, to make them heard, and I take my job seriously.”
Kingsley ducks his head, but she still sees the flash of a grin on his lips. “You are very passionate about your work, Hermione. It’s an admirable trait. Now, should we play another round or are you interested in upping the stakes?”
“Upping the stakes?” She’s suspicious because Kingsley was in Ravenclaw for a reason. He’s far too clever and he’s cunning enough that she’d believe the sorting hat had difficultly choosing between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. She looks at the very small pile of plastic chips beside him then at her pile, which is substantially larger. “What do you have in mind?”
“Just a different variation on the game we’ve been playing.” Kingsley looks at her with an intense stare that makes it difficult to look away. “It gets tedious to continue playing the same thing without any escalation, wouldn’t you agree? I think we’ve had enough time with learning the rules, figuring out how things work together, making sure there’s interest from both parties. Years, in fact.”
“I don’t understand,” she reluctantly admits, hating that she has to have him explain himself. “Years? I only learned how to play tonight.”
Kingsley laughs, the sound deep and husky in a way that makes her want to hear it more often. “You’ve been playing your game for much longer than that, little girl,” he informs her. “Shall I deal?”
“Wait. What are the rules?” she asks, still trying to figure out what he’s talking about. It’s not poker if he’s talking about years, but she doesn’t play any other games.
“Too late to back out now. I already dealt.” Kingsley smirks as he looks at his cards. “The only change in rules is that we stop using chips. Instead, we use clothes.”
Hermione licks her lips and shifts in her chair. “Clothes?”
“Muggles call it Strip Poker. It adds a different element to the game, wouldn’t you say?” Kingsley arches a brow, and Hermione slowly begins to understand what he means about escalation.
How foolish of her to take so long to figure it out. She’s twenty-six years old, after all, and she isn’t a shy little virgin who doesn’t know anything about sex. The idea that Kingsley is flirting with her is unexpected, though, so she shouldn’t blame herself too much for being confused. Now that she knows what game he’s truly playing, she can be a worthy opponent. “Yes, I’d certainly agree.”
“I’m discarding two,” Kingsley tells her, placing two cards on the table and choosing two more. His focus is different than before. With the others, he’d been relaxed and almost playful. Now, he’s serious and concentrating in a way that has her wondering if he’s that eager to have her strip.
“I’ll take one,” she says, knowing she has a strong hand. “Do we bet?”
“We could or we could play with the rules that the loser just removes an article of clothing. What do you prefer?” Kingsley glances up from his cards to look at her.
She’d prefer for him to be naked and hopefully to spend the night in his bed, if that’s where he’s leading them, but she can’t exactly bet that. “An article of clothing makes sense,” she decides, knowing that is likely to take longer, too.
They reveal their cards, and she has the highest hand. He rolls his eyes when she smirks at him. “Fine.” He stands up and takes off a shoe.
“That isn’t clothing,” she tells him, smiling sweetly when he looks at her. “Are you trying to break the rules, Minister?”
“Don’t be so smug, little girl. Next time, it’ll be you,” he warns, removing his other shoe before he deliberately takes his time pulling off a sock. Once his foot is bare, he arches a brow. “Satisfied?”
“Very.” Hermione licks her lips before she shuffles the cards and deals their next hand.
She loses two in a row, so her socks are soon on the floor. When he loses the next one, his last sock joins the pile. Hermione thinks about what she’s wearing and knows the next loss will require a major article of some sort. Fortunately, she’s got at least one article of clothing more than him, since he’s just wearing a shirt, trousers, and underpants. She’s also got her bra to count.
He wins the next hand and smirks at her. “You lose. What are you taking off?” He unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt and leans back to watch her strip.
It takes her a moment to stop staring at the dark skin he’s revealed, trying to determine if that’s chest hair or just a shadow from how the shirt is lying against his skin. After a moment of consideration, she smiles. She reaches under her shirt and shifts around, tugging and unclasping until she’s pulling her bra out of a sleeve. It feels daring to be sitting across from him with her bra now on the floor beside them. Her nipples are hard, pressing against the fabric of her shirt whenever she moves, and her breasts are tingling, aching in a way, and she knows it’s because she wants his hands on them.
His eyes are dark when he deals the next hand, and she notices his gaze drop down to her breasts several times. She bites her lip, moving in a way that draws more attention to her chest. He’s either distracted or has a bad hand because he loses the next one. “Not many more to go, little girl,” he murmurs, standing up and making a show of unbuttoning his shirt, dragging his fingers over the dark skin he reveals when he pulls the shirt open. There is hair on his chest, and his nipples are hard buds that have her flicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth because she wants to lick them.
When he sits back down, she deals. “You’d better focus then, old man. Your trousers are next,” she says confidently, giving him a challenging look as she leans forward and deliberately lets her shirt gape open enough for him to see her breasts. She listens to his sharp intake of breath, rubbing her legs together as she feels the tension between them build to another level.
“I don’t think so, little girl.” Kingsley clears his throat and takes another three cards. When they reveal, she’s lost, and he smiles smugly. “What’s it going to be? Shirt or trousers?”
Hermione stands up and unfastens her trousers. Taking a page out of his book, she slowly pushes them down, making sure to do so in a way that makes him unable to look away from her breasts. Thank Merlin she wore that shirt tonight. It isn’t sexy or anything, but it’s loose in a comfortable way that also causes the gaping when she leans over too much. Once she has stepped out of her trousers, she’s left in her shirt and knickers.
“Those are sexy knickers you’ve been hiding away, Hermione.” Kingsley is staring at her in a way that makes her understand what prey must feel like before being attacked.
“These old things?” She deliberately pulls the shirt up enough to show off her knickers, reaching down to stroke the silk and lace while he’s watching. Her finger strays to the crotch, which she’s unsurprised to find damp.
“Sit your arse down and play cards, little girl.” Kingsley is almost growling, and she smirks as she sits down, knowing she’s affected him. It’s little surprise that he loses the next round, not getting more than one card for a dismal hand.
“Take them off, old man.” Hermione leans forward and watches him eagerly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning when the trousers are pushed down to reveal muscular legs that she knows must be strong. She looks him over, his body suiting that of a hard working auror but completely out of place on a Minister who spends so much time in meetings and shuffling paperwork around. He’s bloody gorgeous, and he knows it judging by the smug smile on his face.
“Would you like for me to turn around?” He smirks and does it before she can reply, showing off a muscular back and broad shoulders and an arse that she thinks she could easily bounce a knut off. When he faces her again, she drops her gaze to his groin and can’t stop the groan from passing her lips. There’s a large bulge pressing against the fabric of his underpants, and she rubs her legs together as she stares at it. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to be held responsible for my actions, little girl.”
Hermione doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know her face is flushed. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks, and her nipples are so hard she’s surprised they’re not poking holes in the fabric of her shirt. Her knickers are damp and getting wetter as she looks at him. She runs her fingers through her hair before she nods at the cards. “Your deal.”
Kingsley sits down, but he’s staring at her and she’s staring at him. Neither of them care that much who loses this round because they know they’re at the edge and about to tumble over. When she sees the losing hand in front of her, she swallows and looks at him as she reaches for the hem of her shirt. “No,” he says, shaking his head as he stands up. In three quick steps, he’s on her side of the table, his hands on hers. “Let me.”
“Kingsley…are you sure?” she asks, wanting to make sure they’re both clear about what’s going to happen. “I don’t do one night stands.”
“Neither do I,” he points out, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m not much for casual, either.”
“Agreed.” She looks down at their hands and smiles. “Well, are you going to take off my shirt or stand there all night, old man?”
“You’ve got a lot of cheek, little girl.” He pushes her shirt up and over her head, throwing it on the pile of clothes beside them. They’re now both in their knickers, and she isn’t sure what to do next. He leans in and kisses her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her warm skin. “Your deal.”
She blinks at him and watches him sit back down, obviously hard enough that his underwear isn’t even able to hold him all, but he wants to play another round. “You’re an arse,” she mutters, sitting down and reaching for the cards. He just chuckles but ignores her as he looks at his hand.
“I want to up the ante,” he decides. “Knickers and your mouth on my cock if I win.”
“Seriously?” She arches a brow and looks at her own hand, which is strong. “Fine. Underpants and your mouth on my cunt when I win.”
“When?” He snorts. “Confident, aren’t you, little girl?”
“We’ll see how smug you are when I’m riding your tongue, old man.” They reveal their cards together, and she grins when she sees she’s beat him. “I reckon it’s beginner’s luck, huh?”
Kingsley rolls his eyes as he stands up and pushes his underpants down. He’s bloody huge compared to most the men she’s shagged, but about comparable with Ron, who was her first. She wiggles in her chair as another wave of arousal spreads over her because she’s soon going to have that lovely cock buried inside her, and she can’t wait.
“I think you look sexy on your knees, Kingsley,” she says, admiring the graceful way he kneels in front of her. He huffs out a laugh against her thigh but doesn’t say anything as he kisses his way higher. Hermione arches up off the chair when he tugs on her knickers, letting him pull them off now that their game is over, and she’s the winner.
His tongue feels so bloody good against her clit, and she slouches more in the chair so he has better access to her. He is focused on his task with the same intensity he focuses on everything, and she’s soon biting her lip and moaning as he laps at her cunny and fucks her with his tongue. His hands are gripping her arse, holding her up so he can lick her better, and she whines because she’s unable to press any closer to get the friction she wants. Finally, he starts sucking on her clit, sliding two large fingers inside her, curling them and twisting them as she rolls her hips.
When she comes, she shudders and tightens around the three fingers now inside her cunt. She’s still trembling when he pulls his fingers out and grips her arse, wetness rubbing against her skin as he stands up, lifting her out of the chair and slamming her against the wall. He slides into her, stretching her even more than his fingers had, and they’re kissing as he fucks her, tongues stroking in rhythm with his thrusts. She doesn’t even come down from her orgasm before his fingers and cock are driving her to another.
He feels so good, better than she even imagined, and she loses herself in the sensations and emotions as they fuck. It’s much later, after another go in the shower and a lazy time exploring and learning each other that she’s finally able to think again. She’s curled up against him, lying on her side with him spooning her from behind, his strong arms wrapped around her. He’s sleeping, making soft noises as he holds her close. Hermione smiles and closes her eyes. There’ll be plenty of time for thinking in the morning. Right now, she just wants to sleep and enjoy him holding her tight.
End