We're leaving against the counter - well, he is, and I'm leaning into him - and one of his legs is pressing between my own, just hinting at something far more suggestive, something far beyond where I thought this would go.

I'm not complaining.

I shake my head at his question, my head leaning into his touch, at the tug on my hair. The room feel funny, and it takes me a moment to realize that it's not just me and my overstimulated being, but the Galleon has actually tipped, more so than it usually does when it's in motion. The floor is now at a funny angle. Well, I imagine it's funny, it feels very natural for me right now.

I smirk at him, my lips swollen slightly from all the heat and ice and hard kissing, and roll my hips against his thigh. Sort of testing the waters.