Had Stephen been sober they might've been playing Wizards Chess and listening to his latest Black Keys album. There might've been some liberal insulting at one another, a bit of gloating on the winners part and some major groaning on the loser's. Then, they would discuss her mural until inspiration took hold so hard on her that she might grab at anything she could sketch on and furiously work as he watched.
Had Stephen been sober he would've had a pretty good night.
Stephen was sloshed, pissed, completely inebriated and trashed and having the best night of his damned life. Oh, sure, he had kissed girls before. He had even made love with his old muggle girlfriend but never had she felt like this under his hands. Never had she tasted so distinctly sweet. Stephanie's lips held some remnants of the cinnamon firewhiskey and just a touch of something else she might've eaten... and he wouldn't let her leave him without an answer.
It was as if he was a thirsting man and she was the last drop of water on this earth. His fingers spread wide and jolted downward to grip at the bloom of her hips in a most forceful way. Stephen twisted their bodies until he was laying back against the couch and she was straddled across his lap, exposed to him in such a way that exploration was possible and imminent.
His head canted to the right, lips parted and his tongue darted out across his bottom lip to taste again and again until it became to much and he had to lift his hands up to cup either side of her jaw as he deepened that kiss.
Stephanie tasted like what he imagined a feast in heaven might taste like, impossibly delectable and impossible to tire of.