Annie didn't really care about his wound right now, either. (She would absolutely care after.) Her hand found its way back to his hair, immediately tightening there just as a -- you know what? Anchor. That was a great term to apply to this hair thing, yes, exactly.
She was about to say something else -- maybe a warning, maybe further declarations of love? It didn't much mater, since her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks with one last thrust against him, and Annie was pressing her face against his shoulder almost as soon as her eyes illuminated.
Good instincts on muffling the cry she couldn't help, sure, but what about that poor, poor 1960s wiring? The lamp buzzed in the room with them, and God only knew what kind of looks they were going to get from Elliot, because Annie had almost certainly done a number on some of that radio and electrical equipment just now.
no subject
She was about to say something else -- maybe a warning, maybe further declarations of love? It didn't much mater, since her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks with one last thrust against him, and Annie was pressing her face against his shoulder almost as soon as her eyes illuminated.
Good instincts on muffling the cry she couldn't help, sure, but what about that poor, poor 1960s wiring? The lamp buzzed in the room with them, and God only knew what kind of looks they were going to get from Elliot, because Annie had almost certainly done a number on some of that radio and electrical equipment just now.