My body took over, reacted without thought. I lunged upward, closing the distance between us. I felt her stiffen with surprise, but it didn't take long for those grim lips to soften against mine.
She gripped my wrist, the front of my jacket; hauled me to my feet. There was a desperate scramble, the two of us fighting and staggering across the pavement for the privacy of her room while trying not to separate. We collided with a brick wall--I felt, rather than heard, fabric tear--the edge of the wall, the door, the hallway.
Finally, we were eveloped in darkness, and I was overwhelmed with the scent of her lair, the scent of her, that intimate place-smell that made my hands claw and tear at the sheepskin she wore, this lioness in our midst. It fluttered away coyly to one side, away from her smooth, hot skin. Her hands were hard and strong as she wrestled my jacket off. A brass button clinked against the wall somewhere to my left.
Some corner of my mind expected us to be awkward, clumsy, inexperienced. Our bodies fit together, though, made for this softness and ferocity and surging fury. Her teeth dragged over my lower lip, my hands slid into the warmth of the sweat at the small of her back. Her thigh pressed up hard between mine and, dizzily, we toppled over onto the bed.
Her hands were her foil; I was armorless. She scored touches there, there, there, there, there... I scored fewer, but had her gasps as reward. I was hesitant, though, and she reached her goal before I could even really begin the journey. And then the touches were different, the pressure less and more at the same time. I was voiceless, frozen in time. Her breath was hot and fast against my throat, her fierce, triumphant grin burned into my eyes as her hand burned and pressed and thrust.
The thunderstorm caught me in its cloudburst, and I screamed into her mouth, lifting her bodily. She laughed. Just as I thought the rain had passed, it returned, blinding and stinging and drenching. The lightning crashed before my eyes in purple and orange fireworks that lingered. The third time, I heard myself begging for her to stop, and she shook her head. I was hoarse and shuddering when she let me fall, limp, back against the bed. She pressed the length of herself against me, and made soft, appreciative noises every time a spasm rattled through my body.
When I could see again, and hear again, and breathe again, I rubbed my cheek against her hair. "May I?" I whispered.
Shy suddenly, hiding her face, hiding her need... she nodded.