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Summary
His gaze falls to your lips, before he wrestles the spear out of your hands with a practiced speed—and crashes his lips to your own.
"Mm—" You try to speak out, but he doesn't let you. His tongue is already deep into your mouth, tasting each and every single nook and cranny as he steals the air from your lungs. Lohen always kissed like a man desperate to steal your every breath—it was agonizing, having him cage you like this with his bloodied arms around your waist, practically engulfing you in his embrace. You moan into his mouth, trying to resist his strength, but deep down, you knew you wanted it as much as he did.
He breaks off from the kiss briefly, face flushed, just like yours. "I get to fuck you when you're done helping me. Deal?"
or, Lohen is a little shit, and you are his worst enabler. Even if you like to pretend otherwise.