Elle, she heard from faraway. Elle. The drug made it sparkle, like the stars and spikes of pleasure at her core. They drove further, harder in with every movement David made. Ellie whispered back to him between breaths, repeating his name in Marseilles tones; then she closed her eyes, because he'd had his teeth at her throat but now they were kissing, and she wanted to kiss him almost as much as she wanted everything else.
To emphasize this, one hand found his where it lingered at her chin; she drew it down slowly between her breasts, ending at the little line of skin below her belly button. It was a gentle invitation, but --
"Touch me," Ellie murmured, grinding down hard in encouragement. "Touche-moi..."
I want more of you.
It didn't need to be said aloud; she knew David could feel it in her kiss, how her hips had come to rise and fall with the beat of his pulse. Ellie wanted to give him hours, work him into the ground, but she could feel herself unraveling with every moment he filled her. It wasn't long before she was too distracted by their pace to kiss properly; instead she sucked greedily at the line of David's jaw, drawing her tongue along the pulse in his throat. Perfect.
"Oh," Ellie whimpered suddenly, arching. Her forehead came to rest briefly against his as she gathered herself, fighting the ascent. Too soon.