who ? daphne greengrass and roger davies when ? saturday afternoon, 22nd october where ? roger’s house what ? daphne’s writing and roger’s a minimalistic distraction rating ? nc-17 status ? complete
Whether oddly or not, but since their agreement to call their relationship more than just friendship, nothing really had changed. Or maybe, perhaps, that wasn’t true. The one change, albeit a minute one, that Roger could identify was that it felt more relaxed, which was greatly confusing. Being friends, even with very generous benefits, had been easy. The way Roger not only did but also wanted to tell Daphne stuff, that was weird, but once he pushed the oddness of it away, Roger had found the situation easy. And yet, somehow, it felt even easier now. Roger assumed it must be a false sense of security, a calm before a storm or something. That was really the only thing that truly made sense.
Nonetheless, come Saturday, here they were. Daphne sat at Roger’s dining room table (yes, that table), writing, whilst Roger went over some paperwork for work on the sofa. Ever so often, he’d take a break to make more coffee (and once a sandwich) and return to what he was doing. The way that just having Daphne there felt simple and straightforward was not something Roger had really experienced in relationships before. He had had plenty of relationships, but most of them hadn’t quite involved spending Saturday afternoons in the same room doing different things.
Having made a new pot of coffee, Roger filled up his mug and then Daphne’s too, taking the hot beverage over to her. Putting it down near Daphne, Roger leaned down to press a trail of kisses against her neck. “How’s it going?” He asked but didn’t actually look at the work she was doing, rather choosing to give a slow lick to the skin beneath his lips.
--
Daphne felt more secure now that they weren't simply friends or some strange version of friends. Roger may not have needed — or wanted — the label, but she found a lot of comfort in its existence. She couldn't be entirely sure why that was, but whatever the reason, she wasn't going to ask questions. Daphne was quite happy to stop asking questions for the time being and would continue on questionless for as long as she possibly could.
Being in his company, even when it was across the room and not touching, was comforting to Daphne. She enjoyed it immensely and stole a few glances in his direction in between pages. It was difficult to not set her pen down and just slip into his lap, but she resisted in favor of completing the challenge he'd set upon her with the photos.
Avoiding his distractive qualities, however, was impossible when he was that close. The feel of his lips against her neck, then his tongue against her skin. Her brain short circuited and Daphne could feel the gooseflesh sliding over her arms as a ball of electricity rolled up her spine. "Nearly through," she admitted. "Even if you're making it difficult with your wicked, distracting tongue."
--
Roger laughed against Daphne’s skin at her claim that he was making working difficult for her. Bringing up one hand, Roger run it softly against Daphne’s arm. “I never said there won’t be any distractions,” he informed her, a tone of amusement in his voice. “Just that there’d be less of them,” Roger added with a few more kisses. He had done really quite well in not being distracting, Roger thought. Mostly he’d just been providing coffee, which was not only not distracting, it was helpful.
With one last kiss against Daphne’s jaw, Roger pulled back but only really enough to move closer to the table, leaning against it so he could look at Daphne properly. His hand came up to brush against her shoulder softly as Roger gave Daphne a grin. “You want a break?” He asked. Roger realised that he very much meant the question, too. If she was on a writing streak, Roger was quite happy to go back to what he’d been doing and wait for her to be free.
--
Oh, he was definitely a distraction. The biggest distraction that she thought she'd ever experienced in her entire life. Daphne wasn't complaining though. The remainder of her writing was forgotten with those additional kisses, especially the one to her jaw. She made a noise very close to a whine when he pulled away from her again.
The suggestion of a break sounded so lovely that she nodded immediately. "A break would be marvelous," she told him, reaching for the cup he'd brought her and lifting it so she could give a cooling blow to the beverage. "And more distractions, if you please," she added, smiling as she took a sip.
--
Roger was pleased when Daphne said she would be happy to take a break, and then, when Daphne informed him she wouldn’t turn down more distraction either, Roger gave a laugh. “What sort of distraction are you after?” He asked her, eyebrow raised, but his hands were already reaching out for Daphne, urging her to move up from the chair, so he could pull her in closer. When she did, Roger placed one of his hands against her back, palm flat against the space just above Daphne’s arse as he pulled her close, tilting his head upwards to draw her in for another kiss.
Scooting back on the table so he could sit on it properly, Roger’s other hand settled on Daphne’s hip, pulling her up on the table so she could sit in his lap. It wasn’t for a while still before Roger broke the kiss, breath coming somewhat harshly between them as a smile settled on his lips. “I feel I can do very well with distraction,” he informed her, a hand sneaking under Daphne’s shirt, exploring the warm skin.
--
Daphne's own eyebrow mirrored Roger's, arching about the same moment that his did. There were a million distractions that she would be happy to have any one of. The one that he came up with, though, was perfect. She went easily into his arms, happy to accept his touch and his kisses.
She found herself smirking when he pulled her into his lap on the table, but she was too distracted by the kisses to even hold it on her lips for more than a second or two. When he finally pulled back to draw a breath, she realized she'd been holding her own and sucked in a little one without moving too far from his lips. "Mhm," she agreed, nodding as she leaned in to nip at his jawline. "I'd wager that you're remarkable at distraction," she murmured against his neck.
--
“Oh, you bet,” Roger assured. He was not a man who thought himself good at many things, but distraction was definitely something Roger felt confident in being able to manage. As if to illustrate such a point, Roger moved his other hand over to Daphne’s side, too, in order to pull her shirt up more and then off, leaning in to kiss the exposed skin. With slow kisses and licks, Roger made his way across Daphne’s chest and then up to her neck, finally concluding by kissing her lips. For as long as she was happy with this sort of distraction, Roger was happy to deliver.
Roger’s hips pushed upwards automatically, as his hands, now free of removing Daphne’s shirt, slid over Daphne’s bare skin. “You’re really very hot,” he decided out loud, in between kissing her. It was true, she was, and for all the things between them, at least that was not something Roger felt at all necessary to question.
--
Daphne was finding that Roger was good at a lot more things than he gave himself credit for. Being a distraction was probably at the tip top of that list, perhaps only just shy of how damn gorgeous he was. Daphne didn't resist him pulling off her shirt She was glad for it to be gone and cared little about where it ended up. The kisses that he spread over her chest and neck were unfairly hot and by the time he kissed her lips, writing was the last thing on her mind.
A low, breathy sound escaped her lips as his hips shifted and he told her she was hot. A smile spread across her face. "Coming from the hottest person in the room, I'm going to take that as a massive compliment," she said. Daphne had never felt that she was ugly, but she certainly hadn't put the word hot in her brain when thinking of herself. She was average. Somewhere in between. Knowing that Roger thought otherwise made her feel all sorts of heat rushing through her.
Catching his mouth in another kiss, she gave his lower lip a gentle bite. "It's unfair how beautiful you are, really."
--
Roger had never doubted that he was attractive. It was one of those things that had sort of just come along as he was growing up and stuck. He did plenty for looking attractive, things like running regularly and eating healthily, but Roger wasn’t stupid enough to think that he was just attractive because of it (though, it definitely helped). Other people, Roger knew weren’t as happy to accept that they were attractive. Or didn’t find it as easy to do, at least. Daphne’s assurance that he was more attractive than her made Roger laugh, because he didn’t feel it was true, but also having her half naked on top of him was not the time Roger was going to pick for having a losing argument.
Instead, he kissed her some more, grinding upward into her quite intentionally this time when Daphne bit his lower lip. “It’s a good thing then,” he said trailing kisses down her neck, hands running across Daphne’s side. “That we’re both so attractive and this table’s so sturdy,” which, again, Roger did have to acknowledge, his dining table buying skills were clearly excellent, because the table was proving itself to be an excellent companion for differing levels of distraction.
--
Daphne laughed at his mention of the table. She had to agree that it was a sturdy piece of furniture. This wasn't the first time that they'd tested its capabilities and she doubted it would be the last. "A very good thing," she agreed. "I don't think my kitchen table would stand up to the abuse we've put this one through."
Sliding her fingers down his sides, she found the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward, eager to rid him of the bit of fabric so that she could feel the warmth of his skin against her own.
--
“What a good investment,” Roger confirmed, lifting his arms so Daphne could remove Roger’s shirt. He patted the table carefully, before returning his hand to Daphne’s side in order to pull her in for another kiss. Unlike the previous time when they’d tested the strength of the table, this time was more relaxed. There was, Roger thought, still plenty of passion but it was somehow... calmer. He liked it.
Roger’s hand run downwards from Daphne’s hip, across her skirt-clad leg, before it snuck under the skirt, settling high on Daphne’s thigh. “Do you want to stay here?” Roger asked placing another line of kisses against Daphne’s neck. His thumb was rubbing softly against the skin near her inner thigh, the other hand still moving slightly against Daphne’s side.
--
A very good investment, indeed. The table had Daphne wondering if she should buy something similar of her own, but the realization that there was no need considering how often she was at Roger's quickly shoved that train of thought right off its track. Had she heard his thoughts, she would have agreed that the passion was there regardless of how much force was behind it. Daphne quite liked how easily they could shift between sweet, slow kisses to rough, rowdy ones. She liked just about every strange little thing about their relationship, their interactions, and especially the sex. Roger left very little space to complain, truly.
His hand on her leg, slipping up her thigh as he asked that question and kissed her so devilishly was distracting. It wasn't surprising, though. Distraction, obviously, was Roger's middle name. "So long as you keep touching me, I really don't care where we are," she admitted. Tilting her head to the side, she opened up the expanse of her neck for more of his kisses, eager to receive as many of them as he would give.
--
Roger felt that he could definitely, and really, quite happily, fill the brief of ‘carry on touching me’. In fact, truly, it would be his pleasure. Roger did illustrate as much when he placed kisses against Daphne’s neck as she tilted her head, clearly with the expectation for Roger to kiss it, which he gladly did. Her skin was soft, a touch of saltiness against it, which Roger licked away. His hand slid higher up Daphne’s thigh under her skirt, until his thumb brushed softly against the material of Daphne’s underwear.
The other hand, the one that had been playing across Daphne’s bare side, came to settle on her lower back, as Roger pulled her in closer against himself, tilting his head upward to kiss her. In order to lean back, Roger had to move his hand from Daphne’s back to the table, to support their weight, but he did thrust upwards as he did so, giving Daphne a grin in between the kisses.
--
As he moved to lean back on the table, she followed his lead and his kisses downward, a smile lighting up on her lips about the same time that he grinned. "Where'd you learn to smile so devilishly?" she asked. There was something about his smile that could send heat straight between her thighs and right now was no different. Especially when he rolled his hips up in the process of grinning that way. It was unfair how easily he could stoke her fire.
--
“Ravenclaw,” Roger replied without a pause, though his smirk did deepen. “It’s in our 101 skills of how to be Ravenclaw,” he assured, moving his hand more up and against the material of Daphne’s underwear. “It comes very handy,” he added rubbing his thumb against her as he tilted his head backwards to catch her lips for another kiss.
Lowering himself slightly, Roger rested on his elbow, raising an eyebrow at Daphne. “If we’re going to stay here, you’re going to have to relieve us of clothing,” he told her, catching his lower lip between his teeth. “Unless, this is exactly what you want,” he added jokingly, though really, if it was Roger wasn’t going to object. Then again, if all of their previous encounters were an indication, it was unlikely that this was how Daphne wanted to proceed. Hopefully, getting rid of the rest of their clothes was definitely still on the table, pun very much intended.
--
She smirked at his words. She doubted that grinning devilishly was in the Ravenclaw handbook, but it certainly had found its way to Roger somehow. "I bet it does," she agreed. Everytime he smiled at her like that, it made it difficult to remember how to breathe and speak, let alone how to do anything else. It was unfair how easily he could make her brain go blank with just a little smile.
Daphne didn't want to move because that would involve pulling away from him, but he had a point. If they were going to stay, they were going to have to rid themselves of clothes somehow. And there was the matter of the cup he'd brought her as well. Breaking it wasn't something she wanted to do by just shoving it off the table. It was with a great reluctance that she slipped off of him long enough to move the cups and to wriggle out of her underwear. The skirt could stay for now because it mattered very little whether it was there or not.
Returning to the table, and to Roger, she crawled back over him, her fingers moving to the fastenings of his jeans as she leaned in to kiss him. "I don't know why I bother putting clothes on around you sometimes," she teased.
--
There was something very, very satisfying about watching Daphne undress, even if she really had done not much more than take her underwear off, living the skirt on. Roger had to admit, though, that something about that was hot as fuck, too. Then, as she crawled back atop of him, undoing Roger’s trousers as she did so, he tilted his head upwards going into the kiss she offered easily, grinning against Daphne’s lips at the comment of questioning the worth of getting dressed around him. Whilst Roger certainly got where she was coming from, he did also enjoy the undressing.
“But you take your clothes off so prettily,” he told her teasingly, one hand still dedicated to propping Roger up on the table slightly, the other running over Daphne’s bare back as he pulled her in closer. “Though,” Roger added with mock-thoughtfulness. “You are also very prettily naked,” which was, really, very true.
--
Daphne wondered how he could make something like nakedness sound so sweet. It was both sexy as hell and just plain adorable. The conflicting emotions were hard to sort through and she tried not to even bother. "Do I?" she asked, grinning as she finished with the button of his trousers and worked the zipper down. "Do I prettily remove your clothes too?" she asked, tilting her head as she drew the fabric of his pants open a bit wider, smirking the entire time.
Roger was also very pretty naked. He was very pretty clothed. Very pretty in general. That word didn't really do him justice, if she was being quite honest. Leaning in as he guided her closer, she kissed him again. "Charmer."
--
Roger’s hips bucked upwards when Daphne’s fingers reached to work the zipper of his trousers down, as if it would in any way speed up the process. Or perhaps, seeking out even more contact. Roger wasn’t sure nor did he really cared. Mostly he just wanted her to touch him more. “You do remove my clothes prettily,” Roger assured with a nod, catching her lips into another kiss, as his hand moved down from Daphne’s back, to her side, a thumb briefly slipping under the waistline of Daphne’s skirt, before carrying its way down over her hip, settling on her leg just below the skirt.
Daphne calling Roger a charmer made him laugh. It wasn’t the first time someone had accused him of as much, but there was something in how she said it that made a warmth settle low in Roger’s stomach. It was pleasing. The whole situation. Having her there. All of it. That was not quite what Roger had expected but he knew for certain that he liked it. “You’re not too bad yourself, Greengrass,” Roger teased, his hand sliding under Daphne’s skirt and over to her arse, which he gave a squeeze.
--
She bit her lower lip as he rocked upward against her. It was even more unfair when she didn't have any panties between her and the fabric of his trousers. He probably knew as much. Taking the movement as indication that she was going a bit too slow for his liking, she adjusted tugged at both his trousers and the undergarment beneath to free him at least mostly from them.
It was with a great amount of deviousness of her own that she shifted her hips forward, effectively pinning him between her and the table and smirking at the position she had him in. She quite liked being in charge on occasion. Especially when he was letting her take over so sweetly. "Only 'not bad'?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she rolled her hips teasingly against him. "I'd say that you think I'm more than just 'not bad'."
--
“Definitely more than just ‘not bad’,” Roger offered almost too quickly, but that really was mostly down to the way Daphne had him pinned between herself and the table. Roger, too, rather enjoyed when she was in charge on occasion. Their sex was great pretty much no matter what they did, and whilst Roger still didn’t get why that was, he was hardly going to complain. But there was something very appealing about having Daphne do what she wanted, take what she wanted.
Roger’s hips bucked upwards again, but this time were much more effectively stopped by Daphne, and Roger tilted his head, reaching up to if not demand then at least request a kiss. And maybe some more action. “Come on, Daph,” he said voice suddenly much more raspy. “Please?” Roger offered hopefully.
--
That one little word should not have been so incredibly hot, but it was like molten lava flowing straight between her thighs. Coupled with the rasp in his voice, Daphne couldn't have said 'no' if she'd tried. She didn't want to. Saying no wasn't something that Daphne really did a lot of when it came to Roger. She realized, somewhere in the deepest parts of her mind, that it was because they wanted a lot of the same things and saying no to him would be like saying no to herself.
Daphne shifted her hips just enough to align their bodies, leaning down to kiss him again. "Only because you asked so nicely," she whispered against his mouth as she moved her weight to one arm and used the other hand to guide him into her. She had given up on wondering if the spark would die out. It hadn't yet and it showed no signs of even attempting to do so. Even now when they'd came together so many times she'd lost track of the number, a series of fireworks started to burst along her spine, inch by inch as he filled her.
--
As Daphne aligned their bodies, taking Roger into her slowly, he groaned against her mouth, especially when it was accompanied with complimenting his ability to ask for her. The heat between them was strong and Roger wanted to push upwards, to seek out the friction in as much as he wanted to seek out more of the heat. But they’d been in this position before, with Daphne deciding and choosing the way and speed at which they went and, really, that was as hot as it was to just fuck her.
Leaning down lower on the table, Roger freed his hand that he’d used to prop himself up with, in favour of bringing it up to rest on Daphne’s hip as Roger pressed his back into the table, sucking his lower lip between his teeth as he looked up at Daphne. She really was stunning. “You’re so fucking hot,” Roger told her and then did push his hips upwards, for as much as he could anyway.
--
Daphne had closed her eyes, taking in not only the way he felt but the way that he sounded. The little things — the breathy way he groaned against her lips or the way he sometimes sucked in a breath when a particularly nice spot was brushed against — those were the things that distracted her the most. It was his words that were truly kindling to her fire, fed in at just the right moment to make the sparks dance.
She opened her eyes, panning them over his face until she reached his and she kept her focus there. A part of her wanted to tell him he was just saying that because he was buried inside of her, but the way that he'd said it left her no room to argue. The look on his face, the shift of his hips, it all said that he believed what he was saying. Even if she felt very plain at times, Roger obviously thought she was beautiful. Hot, even. That alone was enough to make her feel that she was suddenly a modern day Marilyn Monroe with darker hair and — unfortunately — less curves.
Leaning back, she let her fingers rest against either of his thighs, eyes still on his as she began to move. The angle would surely give him plenty to look at and she'd be lying if she said she didn't want to watch him look.
--
Roger did watch, both because the angle she’d given him made it far too easy not to and because Roger was rather sure that the angle she’d given him was exactly so he could look. Which, in turn, was also incredibly hot. It would be a lie to say that Roger hadn’t expected the sex to change when they’d agreed that they were dating, put a name to it, somehow define it. Roger had expected it to make an actual difference in how things became and it... hadn’t. Which shouldn’t really have been surprising, not when Roger hadn’t cared for having a label one way or another, but the fact that nothing actually had changed was delightful to discover.
Fingers tightening on Daphne’s hips as she moved, Roger moved with her, pushing upwards in all the right places and moving his hands to help with her movement. It wasn’t the fastest sex they’d ever had and certainly not the roughest, but there was still something very satisfying about the whole affair. Roger did suspect it was having Daphne be on top, be in charge, but rather than really questioning it, he just pushed himself upwards a bit, an angle that wasn’t the most comfortable really, as he sought out Daphne’s mouth for another kiss.
--
It mattered very little if it was slow or fast, rough or sweetly gentle. Daphne had come to find a bit of beauty and madness in every single version of their physical affection. It worked no matter what tempo they placed it in, what piece of furniture happened to be underneath them, or what sort of mood they were in at the time. It just worked. Crazy, ridiculous, unexplainable.
As he pushed himself up, seeking out more kisses, Daphne moved to make the change in position more comfortable for him but also because she wanted his kisses, too. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she drew him in closer and let her teeth scrape gently across his lower lip.
--
Sitting back up, so he could lean into Daphne’s kiss more easily, Roger’s arms moved up to wrap around her lower back, pulling her in close against his. The movement between them was steady, slow but consistent, majority of the sounds it produced ended up being swallowed up into the kisses and Roger quite liked it. It was just so easy. Which was not a word Roger had really expected to associate with someone he was in a relationship with. It was... refreshing and new, in a way.
Pulling back, but ever so barely, Roger trailed kisses down Daphne’s jaw and then her neck, giving a small bite against the skin there. The slow and steady pace was certainly working, especially as Roger felt a slow build-up begin. As he kissed Daphne’s skin, Roger tried to gather some brain power to decide whether he wanted to just let the feeling consume him or pause, maybe move, carry on. Both were tempting, really.
--
Being with someone had never really been easy for Daphne. Complicated was a better descriptor when it came to any of her relationships. None of them had felt like this, though. She wasn't sure why that was and thought it might frighten her too much to consider the possibilities. It felt good and people liked when things felt good. Why bother with worrying about the why?
His kisses made those questions easy to forget, especially when his teeth joined in the fun and grazed against her flesh. Every little flicker of a movement sent a wave crashing inside of her and she doubted that the building pressure would take long to build too high to hold back. His name was a murmur caught somewhere on her lips, mixed in with enough breath to dilute the syllables. Her hands shifted, one moving into his hair while the other clutched somewhere at his back, holding onto him like she might float away otherwise.
--
In the end, Roger decided that there was no real need to make effort to prolong this. Not because he didn’t enjoy it, hardly. But mostly because for one, Roger didn’t actually feel the need to prove anything to Daphne. She seemed just as happy with sex that took hours, as she was with sex that, well, didn’t. But also, because Roger realised that it didn’t matter. They could have sex now and later. There was something incredibly satisfying in that knowledge and Roger ignored the feeling in favour of thrusting up into Daphne, nibbling against her skin as he did so.
The way she whispered his name, made Roger give a low groan that was mostly stuck at the back of his throat. He returned her name as easily as she had said his. And that, too, really did come easily, the acceptance of just how much Roger wanted Daphne. It was about her more than it ever was about the sex or the situation. Moving his lips up to rest against Daphne’s ear, Roger gave a slow lick to the edge of the skin there. “You fuck so well,” he whispered, voice catching as the memory of breathing steadily was getting further and further away.
--
Her breath hitched in her throat both at her name on his lips and at those whispered words that made her whole body seize tight around him. Her fingers clutched more firmly at his hair and her nails bit at the skin just below his shoulder. Daphne forgot how to breathe and succeeded in only sucking in a breath every few moments and barely remembering to let it out again before sucking in the next.
His appreciation for her abilities in bed inflated her ego considerably. "Has a lot to do with having a good partner," she managed, though her words were more raspy than anything else. Daphne played by ear, eagerly moving the way in which she felt would feel the best for her but for him as well. That eagerness to please Roger was something new. It wasn't just because she wanted him to be pleased but because his pleasure would please her. Being so wrapped up in him was exactly where she found herself wanting to be.
--
The assurance that he played no small part in how well their sex felt, made Roger give a small laugh, that mostly got lost in the way his breath caught and his hands moved and his body pushed into Daphne. It was hot. She was hot. Both metaphorically and physically. The motion didn’t seem to get faster or slower but the steadiness of it seemed plenty to slowly build up until Roger couldn’t really contain it anymore, coming with another buck of his hips and Daphne’s name on his lips.
Then, after, Roger breathed heavily against Daphne’s lips, bringing a hand up to brush her hair out of her face, in a way that was both gentle and reminiscent of the last time they’d fucked on his dining table. There was something very sweet both about the situation and just about her in general. But not only sweet. Roger suspected that the touch of wickedness went a great way to make Daphne seem as appealing as she did.
“How’s that for a break?” He asked with a smirk that didn’t quite match the gentle tone of Roger’s voice.
--
As much as Daphne liked the build up and the middle, she was most fond of the afterglow. Now was no different as she came down from her own high right along with him. The gentleness of his touch and of his words earned him a little smile and a kiss that was just as soft. She'd needed a distraction and he'd come through in fine fashion as he always did.
"Perfect," she told him when she broke the kiss, unwilling to move very far from him. "And, you should be glad that I didn't even break anything this time," she teased, smiling as she kissed him again. "Your sugar bowl is safe."
--
The proclamation that he should be glad because Daphne hadn’t broken anything this time around made Roger laugh. It was odd to realise that actually, he would’ve been happy to sacrifice plenty of sugar bowls for her if it came to it. It was probably more convenient that he didn’t have to, though. “It’s very important to ensure the safety of condiments,” Roger assured her with amusement, pressing another light kiss against Daphne’s lips, before he lifted her off of him. It was, Roger though, probably quite amusing just how easily he could pick her up and move her and how he never did during sex when she was in control.
Getting off the table, Roger pulled his trousers back up, deciding not to bother with locating his shirt. Picking up the mug of coffee that Daphne had put away, now more than lukewarm, Roger took a sip of it, realising just how thirsty he felt. “You ready to write more?” Roger asked, before giving Daphne a really rather wicked grin. “Because I can probably think of ways to extend your break if you’re not,” he assured.
--
His restraint at moments when he let her be in control was obvious. She knew he could easily move her around as much as he wanted to, but he didn't. When he moved her this time, it was just a reaffirmation that he could easily have his way and simply chose not to. There was something sweet and still very sexy about that choice. Daphne didn't fight him moving her, slipping off the table after he did.
She smirked at his question. "That's an unfair choice," she told him, backing towards the bathroom so she could clean up at least a little. "You've given me all of this inspiration and yet that promise for more distraction is so very tempting."
--
It was an unfair choice, Roger agreed, but Daphne stating it out loud made him laugh nonetheless. “Okay, okay,” he agreed with a nod, eyes following her as she walked. “How about you write another two thousand words and then you can have a rewarding distraction?” Roger offered, that seemed like a fair compromise that would also make her be productive. And if it ended in more sex, well, Roger was hardly going to complain about that.
--
Two thousand words for another distraction sounded like the easiest bargain that she'd ever made. "Two thousand words," she said. "That, I can do. And I shall make you suffer through the entirety of it because I plan to write all two thousand of those words topless," she said, a smirk curling the corners of her lips as she turned and headed for the bathroom.