[Its not long -- he's tired, he's managed to do an excellent job of using every ounce of energy he had fucking her, but he still refuses to let himself lean. His arms shake when he pushes himself onto hands instead of elbows and slides himself out wordlessly. His hand goes to the top of the desk and nearly slips on the still-drying blood when he presses his weight on it.
But he's up in short order after clearing his throat. He offers her a hand once he has his balance.
And a genuine grin, a tired and almost serene sort of expression still soaked in sweat to compliment it.]
no subject
But he's up in short order after clearing his throat. He offers her a hand once he has his balance.
And a genuine grin, a tired and almost serene sort of expression still soaked in sweat to compliment it.]