Jean-Claude drew himself out of me, gently, and lay on his back with me on top of him, pinning his legs. I felt his need like a weight in my mind, and I knew that he would have given almost anything to be the one on the bottom. Mine, too, Nathaniel said. Spock on me.
What makes you think a piece of sewing equipment would be in the kitchen? I asked, and my voice held that first hint of amusement that I was trying to hide from Ronnie. He cursed in French, then said in English, I put my hand on your shoulder to steady myself, nothing more. That if you throw away one kind of control, it makes other kinds harder to hold on to. He didn't so much fall down my body, as spill down it, again that sense of liquid grace that the wereanimals had when they wanted to.
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