"Oh, don't Malc me," he told her, mocking the way she sounded saying his name at that moment. Maybe it was cruel, but he was getting the distinct impression that she rather enjoyed cruel.
His hands slid under the loose shirt, running along her waist, and pulling her firmly back against him.
"We'll, if that was meant to be you denying it, that was fucking pathetic," he told her, low and close to her ear. "What does that say about you, sweetheart? You want me to talk down to you, is that it?" he asked, pressing another kiss to her neck, nipping lightly. His hands explored further, amazed that he hadn't been shoved violently away yet.