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    Summary

    "How long you think we have?"

    Closing the lock system with one hand, Jacinthe glances over to Corbeau with an easy smile. "Ten minutes, perhaps fifteen if we are lucky. Why, are you nervous?"

    Corbeau can't help but smirk in response to that, taking his glasses off and putting them in his pocket. "No, but maybe you should be. The Society of Battle Connoisseurs' leader being seen in a compromising position with someone so unseemly? Lumiose will remember that for years to come."

    Jacinthe's smile deepens and darkens into a smirk as she almost saunters back into the closet to pin Corbeau to the wall, hands already finding purchase in that expensive suit of his as she presses her body right against his. "That is only if I don't make you come first, Mr. Corbeau. And you should know...I always get what I want."

    That devilish smirk on his face in response only drives her crazier.

    "Then make me."

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