"No." Lifting a hand from her hip, he traces the line of his throbbing lower lip with a wet thumb, sighing with eyes shut lightly at the feel of her covering him, her soft thighs around his waist and the sliding heat of her settling around the ache of him as she seats him fully inside of her. "Just a particularly persuasive salesman."

He lifts his other hand to take one of hers, leading it gently to his mouth. He still saves his kisses for parts of her that aren't her lips, pressing one with another relieved sigh to the palm of her hand before slipping the tip of her index finger between his teeth to toy with it.

"Women like you are really," he says, flashing dark eyes open again to urge her forward. "The death of me."