Lethia blinked, confused. "Didn't you freeze it because you couldn't, um… do the deed the natural way?"
Zeran let out a dry laugh, utterly disbelieving. The quick-witted woman he'd seen on the game field, now acting so annoyingly naïve.
"You took my words literally? Are you daft?"
Without warning, Zeran scooped her up and moved them to the longer sofa. But this time, he shifted her position, settling her into his lap, straddling him, face-to-face.
Caught off guard, Lethia instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to keep her balance.
Her robe parted as her legs spread over his thighs, baring the softness of her inner thighs.
Zeran's fingers trailed along the exposed skin, quick and possessive, drawing a fluttering shiver from the nerves around her groin.
"Wh–What are you doing?" she stammered.
"Focus on me."
With one firm pull at the nape of her neck, their lips crashed together—hard and hungry.
