With the capture of Verandi Farley and several high-ranking Trossach members, the British wizarding world has finally caught a break. The rate of rogue werewolf attacks have started dropping at a steady rate and, hopefully, things will stay that way. The Ministry is starting to loosen some restrictions, like not arresting werewolves standing on the street for loitering, however there’s still an obvious power imbalance between wizardfolk and werewolves.
The Cotswolds pack are continuing to advocate for the rights of werewolves and petitioning to change the legislation that has been set in motion by the current Minister for Magic, whilst the remaining Trossachs members are trying to stay out of the spotlight and keep a low profile… for now.
Whilst the British wizarding world seems to have calmed down, the same cannot be said for over in Northern Europe where a rebellion of magical creatures has risen. The state of things has gotten so bad that the European Ministry has enacted protocols to protect those under eighteen whilst their adult witches and wizards fight to keep control of their countries.
Students from Durmstrang have been sent to Hogwarts to keep them safe and those not old enough to attend school have been sent to live with relatives or designated British Ministry officials outside of Europe for the time being.
Will the low rates of werewolf attacks in Britain continue? How long will Durmstrang students stay at Hogwarts? Will the creatures usurp the wizardfolk in Northern Europe? Only time will tell.
SEPTEMBER 2019 It's been a very long, eventful summer in the wizarding world. A baby was stolen, several high ranking Trossach members were imprisoned, and werewolf attacks have drastically dropped as a result. What will happen now school has returned?
MAY 2019 An attempt to capture the beta of the Trossachs has been launched. Were the Aurors successful in their mission? Go read more here!
It was a completely ordinary Friday on the first week of a completely ordinary March in the completely ordinary, as far as wizard standards went, town of Hogsmeade. At the end of the most ordinary side street there was the most ordinary Inn. Except it was squeaky clean, seeming to even sparkle and shine, making it look a little bit odd in the age-old village.
The windows had been defrosted and cleaned to utter transparency -- though light blue silken curtains blocked the view inside. In short, the Inn looked like it was about to accept a royal entourage of some sorts.
When in truth, Askold was just getting ready for a date.
It had been months since he'd seen Zoe Savage. He'd had a lovely lesson with her students, teaching them how to bake traditional Russian foods, but his conversation with the professor after class...That had been an entirely different matter. She'd flirted with him, and Askold, torn between his desire -- because Zoe was beautiful beyond words, and just as alluring -- and the set of morals he'd held on since he was 18 (if you sleep with someone, you marry them). Back in the classroom, the conversation had turned to werewolves, killing the mood somewhat, and he'd used the chance to get out of there as fast as he could with a stammered goodbye.
He hadn't spoken to her since then. She hadn't approached him since then. All would have been well, and he would have just added it to list of shameful memories... But he found himself thinking of her. Often. Very often.
Some days they were thoughts of longing - he wished he could have a proper conversation with her, about his parents, about Russia, about Australia, about food, it didn't matter what, he just wanted to see her.
Sometimes it was about kissing her. She'd been so close to him, and he'd been baffled at how beautiful she was. And some nights, those thoughts went even further. After his mind cleared, he felt guilty and couldn't fall asleep for hours, thinking that it was wrong for him to desire her in such a way.
Things had changed over the months. Askold had gotten himself involved in helping a pack of werewolves, and he knew full well that he could be booted from Hogsmeade at any given moment if the Ministry found anything out. And that would mean that he couldn't see Zoe at all, right?
The dread he felt for the future made him act. He penned a letter -- or about 10 -- and sent it off to the castle, inviting Zoe over for dinner. The young man had felt absolutely elated when Zoe had agreed.
Now it was evening, he was dressed in a white shirt and dress pants, with some black shoes. Askold had ditched the fake glasses for the evening and trimmed his beard to be rather short, so it wouldn't be messy -- and just in case Zoe didn't like kissing men with beards.
He'd closed the Inn and cleared away most of the tables and chairs, leaving a larger one by the fireplace. It was set with a white tablecloth and some light blue dishes and silver cutlery -- he'd pulled out all the stops.
He was pacing back and forth through the Inn, anxiously making sure that everything was perfect and sneaking glances to the big grandfather clock at the end of the room, eagerly waiting for the door to open.
A proper date night without the excitement fear of students or fellow professors bypassing her excellent locking charms? Zoe’s whole body seemed to thrum with excitement - more than once the professor had been asked why she was so smiley today. To which, of course, Zoe laughed and simply asked ’run out of stories to spread about each other hmm?’ to which a few jaws dropped and some nervous laughs. Like a naughty teenager, Zoe had slipped out of the Castle and the moment she could safely apparate to the front door of the Hog’s Head Inn, she did. No need to ruin her shoes with the walk, after all.
As the witch stood delicately on the cobbled stones, she drew down the hood of her cloak and adjusted her hair into just the right spots. The place was much quieter than she expected, Zoe noted as she pushed at the door, though part of her wondered if that was because most wizard folk had better things to do on a week day night than what she intended to happen this evening. Merlin, Zoe knew what the fuss was about with how sexy Russians could be without even trying. Tingles ran down her shoulders with each movement the tougher fabric of her winter cloak made against her already aroused skin as she pushed the door open.
”Knock knock?” Zoe cooed merrily as she made her way into the pub. It looked... Zoe’s hands reached to her chest in the style of a 1950s heroine and she let out an enthusiastic gasp. ”Oh Merlin this looks... who knew the Hogs Head could look so good?” her eager blue eyes searched for the man that had invited her and it didn’t take too long for them to fall in him.
”Askold, I hardly recognised you without the tell-tale flour,” she said with a cheeky grin on her face. ”Thank you for inviting me out... this... this is beautiful. You are beautiful.” In all of her awe, Zoe had completely forgotten to shed her cloak. Funny, because she was very obviously undressing the host as she walked towards him.
He had been pacing around and chewing on his bottom lip, wringing his hands in anxiety, when the clear tone of the bell above the door tore him out of his thoughts. For a few seconds he looked like a deer in the headlights, staring right at the front entrance and, most importantly, at Zoe.
Zoe, who he hadn't seen in months, and yet who he'd thought about almost every other night, was just as stunning as he recalled - even though he could really only see everything above the neck right now. That rounded face, those blue eyes, that hair--
One part of Askold wanted to do away with the dinner entirely and kiss her right then and there, but that felt wrong. Instead, he tried to focus on her voice rather than her face, but her words made him go weak at the knees either way.
"I try," he answered, straightening out his back as a wave of pride washed over him. Indeed, you couldn't compare this Hogs Head to what it had been before Askold arrived. All the sweat, nerves and elbow grease had paid off.
Then Zoe complimented him and the man blushed furiously, looking down at the ground as a stiffled giggle left his mouth. "Thank you," he said, finally getting the courage to approach her and help her take off her winter cloak.
He wasn't thankful only for the compliments. He was thankful for the fact, that she didn't mention their previous encounter, and seemed to care about the here and now. It made him feel a lot more free -- instead of wanting to hide his face behind a silver platter.
He took her cloak off in one swift movement, hung it up on the clothes hanger and then turned to have a look at her. His jaw almost fell to the floor when he saw what had been hiding underneath the heavy garment.
Zoe, in a light, white dress that looked far more suited for a summer's day. It almost felt as if the dress was an illusion, a mist that could disappear at any moment -- if Askold wasn't so bashful, he'd probably say something about her looking like a statue of Aphrodite, but all that he could get out of his mouth was a "Wow".
After a few more seconds, his brain finally caught up with him and and he squeezed his eyes shut, just to restart his train of thought.
"I am very happy you came," he said, rubbing his palms together before ushering her towards the table. "Baking is my specialty, but I thought a three-course meal of just bread wouldn't be very healthy, so I decided to cook what I knew best. Traditional Russian cuisine." It was hearty food, meant more for a peasant's lunch than a fancy dinner, but he'd never even attempt to make something French or Italian.
Askold pulled back a chair for Zoe, and once she had settled in, he pulled a bottle of wine from underneath said table. There were already wine glasses present, so he went right to pouring in. The bottle had an old fashioned label on it that read 'Massandra'.
And then he froze. With a tinge of anxiety in his voice, he looked at Zoe.
"You're not a vegetarian, right?" Damnit, why do I always forget to ask the most important thing!
The young man across the floor from Zoe seemed really proud as she complimented the pub and it brought a grin that shone as white as the dress hidden beneath the heavy cloak. She would have loved to see his blush, but alas, the lighting and distance worked on Askold's behalf. "My pleasure, of course," she purred and she could barely take her eyes off the man as she took in every small detail of his handsome face. Was it wrong that she wanted to reach out to run her fingers through that clearly newly trimmed beard? She didn't have time though, as he had hands on her first - oh, oh yes more of that please and thank you but it was only to take her cloak off.
Zoe's lightly curled locks bounced with the movement and she smiled as she slowly looked up to her date, her bosom rising beneath the white dress as she held her breath... waiting for his reaction. The longest second in recent history passed before Askold said "wow." Zoe's rounded cheeks flushed pleasantly - not embarrassed in the slightest, but glad that the reveal had the intended affect. Clearly he was as fond of her as she was of him. The air was cool in the Inn, but that only added to the dress' appeal as her body reacted to the temperature. She rolled her tongue over her bottom lip as he squeezed those gorgeous eyes closed and waited for him to collect himself.
"I'll have to admit that I've been a bit naughty tonight, Askold, because I've slipped out of the castle without permission," Zoe replied cheekily as she was ushered towards the dinner table. It wasn't that she wouldn't have been allowed, but sometimes it was fun to be naughty. "You won't tell anyone on me though, will you?" she asked as she daintily took a seat and moved with the chair as he pushed her in. "Oh goodness, you're such a gentleman. How'd I get so lucky, hmm?" Zoe tore her eyes away from the man that had been undressed all the way down to his tighty-whities (yes, he seemed like one of those men) in her mind to survey the table. She let out a chuckle and bobbed her head in agreeance; a three course meal of bread would leave her waddling with a food-baby the size of Alex Greenaway all the way back to the castle. In heels. No, ma'am.
"You know I love your baking talent but I am super excited to try Russian!" Zoe ran a finger through her curls and gracefully reached for the wine that he'd poured. "Those piroshki thingies - Merlin am I saying that right? I'm sorry, I swear I'll wrap my tongue around that word one day,"maybe you can teach me? she finished the sentence in her head as she glanced at her host and took a sip. "They were very yummy. But maybe I'm biased because the baker is delicious."
The wine glass was to her lips when Askold paused and asked if she was vegetarian. She laughed easily because "Don't worry, I like to try everything at least once," of course there was a wink that accompanied it. "So, what have you been up to the last month or so since I last saw you?"
When Zoe called herself naughty, Askold felt his stomach drop, which caused him to swallow hard and a sheepish smile appeared on his face for a few moments, as he promised not to tell a single soul. He hadn't heard of any restrictions about leaving the castle that would have been imposed on the staff, but the mere thought of Zoe risking her skin to go on a date with him? It was equal parts concerning and arousing. Albeit, the playful tone in which Zoe confessed calmed Askold down. She was a grown woman after all, she could take care of herself, it wasn't a student that was sneaking out.
His smile became more intelligent when he heard Zoe pronounce 'piroshki' - it wasn't far off! He watched her twirl her hair as she spoke, enthralled by the sight of her...everything. He was looking right into her eyes, and then there was a single stray thought - There are other things you could wrap your tongue around - and the man turned even redder than before, coughing and silently cursing himself in Russian for even having such a thought.
This probably looked ridiculous from the side.
Lucky for him, Zoe kept the conversation moving, and as he was closing the wine bottle, she gave him something to talk about. Before answering though, he had a moment to consider how much he could say, looking at the front door as if expecting someone to barge in at any moment. He was outspoken about his views, but he didn't want to put anyone else in danger because of them.
"Well, not much," he started, his voice low, "I've got involved with helping a group of werewolf supporters. I'd prefer to not talk about it too much though, just for both of our peace of mind."
"If you would excuse me for a few minutes, I need to go grab our dinner." And with that, he was off. Closing the kitchen door behind him, Askold first hurried to the sink to rinse his face off with cold water. The young man felt like he was all over the place, his gut telling him one thing, his heart another, and his brain yet another. He kept swinging from wanting to undress her right then and there, which was highly uncharacteristic, to wanting to waltz with her to Tchaikovsky... Get a grip on yourself.
After a solid five minutes of clatter, running back and forth with platters and dishes, the table had finally been set. There was a large bowl of Olivier salad, the sight of which made Askold's mouth water, Veal Prince Orloff - a meal fit for a prince, and a whole row of condiments - horseradish, Russian mustard (the kind that makes your eyes water), sour cream and mayo - whatever Zoe's heart desired.
Askold started cutting up the veal and continued the conversation.
"And how have you been? How are things in the castle?"
Ever perceptive of another’s reactions to her carefully placed flirtations, Zoe noticed the way Askold gulped when she spoke of being naughty. She was no legilimens by any means, but a good decade or more of experience meant Zoe had a decent idea of what was running through his mind. The smile that graced her features mirrored his own, though she gave him a playful wink to show it wasn’t really sheepish at all. No, when it came to all things naughty, Zoe was definitely a she-wolf in sheep’s clothing.
From the way that Askold lit up when she attempted Russian, Zoe was pleasantly surprised because languages weren’t really her... thing. ”You know, I think I’ve heard some of the elves grumbling a bit because they’ve had requests for them and... well I think the elves aren’t that keen to learn new recipes. These fancy little beggars wants them some fiddly foreign pastries because of you, Miss Savage, they’d say to me,” Zoe said, changing her voice to mimic an old, scratchy house elf and pointing an accusatory finger for emphasis. ”So I think the kids have gotten a taste for them, that’s for sure. When they’re allowed back to town... or maybe in the summer, you might just have an influx of customers. Reckon you can handle it?” she asked, knowing full well that Askold would. ”I for one can hardly wait to see you in your apron again-“just your apron. Nothing else, she completed the thought, letting her eyes wander over what she imagined was a very well defined body beneath that strapping suit. Jesus. Fuck. Zoe took a liberal sip of her wine so that her lips had something to do. Even his cough and splutter episode didn’t dampen the girl’s spirits.
As she asked what Askold had been up to, the mood changed noticeably and Zoe instinctually leaned closer, her bosom pressing against her arms that laid on the table as she glanced the same way as he had. ”Oh wow - ok, you don’t have to, of course. You don’t have to worry about little old me though - I don’t think I’ve ever met an actual werewolf... like they’re just normal people except when they Hulk out when the moon’s full... though we have a saying back in Australia that the crazies will be out tonight anyway so I think people in general are a bit ... well... bonkers with the moon. I had an aunt - not a blood relative, mind, - that would always go on about how ’Mercury is in retrograde’ like that excuses her bitchy behaviour ... anyway sorry, I meant to say that I am not an enemy to werewolves. But it’s ok if you’d prefer not to discuss it tonight.” He probably thinks you’re bat-shit crazy now, Zoe. Talking about your bitchy aunt is sooooo sexy.
She was grateful, to be honest, that Askold left to do something in the kitchen so that she could recover herself and her thoughts. Zoe’s wine glass was empty by the time Askold came back out with the first of his platters and she watched him, quite enchanted with a man that could cook. Her eyes sparkled from the firelight that danced about them, but also from the heady wine that warmed her body nicely.
”Askold this is breath taking,” she breathed once he joined her at the table and as fluid as a cat, the young woman had reached across the table to wrap her fingers in his for a moment before he began to serve the veal. ”Thank you,” she told him earnestly before she let him go and sat back in her chair, her gently curled locks falling about her chest just where the white material scooped in its low neckline.
”Things at the castle have been... interesting,” she replied easily, mirth licking at her words despite what should have been actually quite a somber discussion. ”The kids are struggling with being cooped up in the castle - even though, if I’m honest, I still get lost if I’m not paying enough attention to where I’m going and I sometimes feel like I’m in Narnia instead of a real-life ancient castle. Tensions rose and have now simmered down again after the horrible attack at the Winter Ball. Thankfully there were no casualties there, though some of the kids were pretty roughed up. Our matron is a Godsend, I’m telling you,” Zoe paused then to place a portion of the veal into her mouth and, after a second or two, let out an appreciative moan. ”Oh God that tastes good, Askold. It’s like... orgasmic.”
First, there was a cheeky wink that made Askold's cheeks turn even redder than they already were, if it was even physically possible at this point. He looked at her, trying to take in how gorgeous she was, twisted locks the color of chocolate mousse, just as enticing as the dessert... But moments later all the haze of unattainability as Askold snorted, covering his mouth and trying to stifle in a laugh. Zoe's impression of a house elf was threatening to make his sides split.
"I'm really glad to hear that," he sighed, wiping his eyes, "Maybe we could arrange a delivery service or such? No need to make the elves do my job, they've enough work on their plate."
All the fun and games vanished as they approached the ever-so-delicate topic of werewolves. He listened intently, considering her words. He smiled slightly when she confirmed that she wished them no ill -- he had been right about her. "It's not we can't talk about werewolves," he spoke, his voice still low, "Just that I'm not allowed to talk about this current situation." And then he was off.
***
A shiver ran down his spine as the man felt Zoe's fingers wrap around his. And the next moment, they were gone once again, making Askold feel a strange emptiness in his palm, as if she'd been holding his hand for hours, not a few brief seconds.
He had barely managed to settle in an pile the salad on his plate when Zoe made a sound. No, not talking about the castle and the students locked in their gold-ribbed cage, a sound. He looked up, his light brown eyes wide and for the millionth time that evening his face (and probably much more) looked like tomato sauce. His knees felt like tomato sauce, that's for sure.
"Thank you," he mumbled, trying to shovel the salad into his mouth, lest he sit there looking like he lost 3/4th's of his IQ points in an instant, "I.. I try?"
***
Usually Askold could eat about 3 bowls of potato salad before collapsing on his bed and entering a food coma, but tonight his appetite had left him. The woman sitting across from him... He wanted to embrace her. He wanted to push the table away, so there was nothing separating them, nothing in the way.
He hadn't felt like this since the end of his last year at school when he'd asked for one more night with his girlfriend. That had been ages ago.
He waited until Zoe's plate was empty, slowly pecking away at his own food to pass the time and to give him an opportunity to figure out how to approach her. She was very direct, you'd have to be absolutely void of any intelligence to miss that. But Askold? Right now? Being direct was the last thing he knew how to do.
And then an idea dawned upon him. He got up from the table a little bit too fast, making it shake a little bit and with big strides headed to the basement door. After a few minutes he came back out, carrying an old fashioned brass gramophone with a vinyl record on it. Askold set it up on one of the tables he'd pushed to the sides of the room, and after a few moments of tinkering, the gentle sounds of a harp filled the room.
Then he turned around, straightening his back, recalling everything about etiquette and waltzing that they'd taught him at Koldovstoretz and walked towards Zoe. Just like in class, Askold. Smile, be firm and lead.
"Shall we dance?" he asked, one hand extended towards Zoe, the other one folded behind his back.
If there was something that Zoe adored more than a good X-rated time it was when she made a person laugh and Askold, for all his nerves, appeared to have enjoyed her impression. It helped her loosen up a little and relax her shoulders as she laughed with him. ”I think the best person to ask that would be Jack ... though it would probably have to be cleared through Hope too. I don’t know, I lose track of the politics of what is and isn’t allowed at the moment. Instead I’ll just keep sneaking out for midnight bakery visits, if you’d like?” Zoe was keen to practice putting a bun in the oven with the man chowing down on food in front of her. Lots of practice without an actual bun.
Zoe decided to simply nod as a reply in regards to Askold and his werewolf situation. Perhaps... should she have asked him if he was one? As far as she knew the legislature didn’t bar werewolves from owning businesses - just from working? Somehow it seemed impolite to ask and so she didn’t, instead filling her mouth with delicious wine rather than her foot. She enjoyed watching him leave though and she was not shy in the least to let her eyes trail his fine behind into the kitchen.
The woman grinned, her teeth catching her own bottom lip in the process, as Askold thanked her for the compliment. What a perfect shade of red those otherwise pale cheeks could turn! ”You’re very welcome,” she replied as she finished off the portion of food on her own plate with a decent swig of wine. There was no doubt that her own skin had a pleasant flush of pinkness about it from the handsome company and good wine, but it was perhaps accentuated against the slim white fabric of her tiny dress.
Before she knew it, Askold had risen from the table in a hurry and Zoe let out a small gasp of surprise, her hand raising to her chest to still her beating heart. She had goosebumps all over her skin as she watched Askold leave without word and she wracked her brain for what she could have possibly done wrong? She was about to get up from the table to search for him when he came back out. Quietly she sat and watched him work because he seemed quite intent and poetry in motion.
The music itself was beautiful - if she had been asked, she would have said it was stuff Dreams were made from. ”I would love to dance with you,” Zoe said with a bright smile, placing her hand gently in his before standing up. She wasn’t going to admit aloud that she couldn’t swing her hips to a beat like this - she’d have to improvise no doubt. Within a moment of her standing, though, she had made to sure to step flush to the man’s body, her chest against his. ”Though I’m worried that, once you find I have two left feet, you might be less inclined to kiss me,” Zoe said truthfully, her blue eyes looking up into his with doe like innocence, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment and her lips in a slight pout. Her hands were entirely more confident as her free one ran up the front of his shirt, over his chest between them and to the collar at his neck. If she moved just that little bit closer... she’d steal a kiss. Her fingers seemed to have that very idea in mind as they trailed even further to the hair at the back of his neck. Come kiss me, the gesture and her eyes implored.
Goosebumps ran across Askold's skin as Zoe accepted his invitation. The man started to feel just as light as the airy notes of the harp, his heart trembling in excitement along with the rhythm of the strings.
His eyes widened in surprise when, instead of standing across from him so that they could get in position, Zoe left no space between them at all. He looked downwards, into those bright blue eyes. Is the ocean around Australia just as blue? I'd love to see it for myself one day. His eyes trailed down her features -- her cheeks were pink, like not yet ripe strawberries, and her lips, Oh God, those lips, they were mere inches away from his own. For a few seconds Askold couldn't find it in himself to even answer. He just wanted to look at her, forever.
But the hand that was sneaking up, over his shirt, up to his neck, soft fingers grazing against his skin, wrapping around to the back of his neck -- they brought him back to Earth.
By now, the harp had disappeared, replaced by the 1-2-3 of the strings, brass and a playful flute. "I could," he mumbled, his voice strangely quiet, "I could teach you, it's not that complicated." The hand that had been behind his back now was wrapped around her waist, his other hand was sliding down her arm, reaching her shoulder--
"I can't remember," he blurted out. He genuinely couldn't remember where his hands had to go. But instead of feeling a wave of cold horror wash over him, he felt...
Confident.
Perhaps it was the crescendo of the waltz in the background, or perhaps his desires had finally won in the struggle against his inhibitions, either way -- he closed his eyes and kissed Zoe.
He kissed her, slow and sweet, letting himself enjoy it. The hopeless romantic in him woke up from his slumber, as he kissed, and kissed, and kissed along to the rhythm of the waltz. The hand he had put on her shoulder was now tangled in her soft hair, and Askold didn't want this moment to end.
I could teach you came the soft words that brought a spark of desire through Zoe's smiling eyes - there was nothing sexier to the woman than knowledge and sharing it with others. "I would love that," she confided in him, her voice just as soft as his because there was no need to shout - she was so close to him that she fancied she could hear his heart beat if she magically blocked out the music. She was about to add that she'd take any excuse to visit The Baker more often when he murmured about forgetting and then closed the gap between them.
The moment that their lips connected, Zoe's eyes closed and the hand at the back of his neck ran her fingertips further into his hairline. In that moment, she adored how soft and slow he was taking their kiss and she matched his pace with her own whilst her hand slowly trailed around his waist and down... down... down to cup his buttocks. Yes, that fine arse that she'd watched all evening coming back and forwards with the various dishes - that fine arse that she was pushing forward so that his pelvis pressed against hers as she deepened their kiss for a moment longer. To take a breath, Zoe paused and stole a glance at him, "you have no idea how badly I've wanted to do that since you came to my classroom," the young woman said breathlessly, before she grinned and ducked her head into him for yet another kiss. "I want you."
This time Zoe's hands slipped back down his front, expertly snaking his nicely pressed shirt out from his pants before they began to search for a belt that didn't need to be there anymore. With each small movement, Zoe was backing her way to a nearby table so that the moment that she felt it press into her backside she'd be able to wrap her legs around his waist. Thank Merlin for the short skirt. With him firmly between her thighs, Zoe pulled back, her teeth pulling on his bottom lip as she finished their kiss. "AHh.. Ahh -skold, I.. I think we got side-tracked from the dance," she said, an innocently playful grin on her cherubic face.
Askold felt euphoric -- there was no other word for it. The only things on his mind were the joyous sounds of the music and the sensation of Zoe's hands, lips, hair, the heat of her breath, her, oh, Zoe, Zoe, Zoe...!
"Zoe!" he muttered in a surprised manner, his words accompanied by a soft giggle as he felt the woman grab onto his bottom to pull him closer. When he felt the last remnants of space between them disappear, the giggling subsided as he felt that something was requiring his attention. Her words only made him crave it all the more.
"I've spent so many nights thinking about you," he answered, but then she said that she wanted him and-- He moaned. They moved around the room until he found himself with her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands holding her up by her thighs, her arms wrapped around his neck, there was no space between them, there was nothing separating them, no doubt, no hesitation, only a layer of clothes.
"The dancing can wait." he said before making Zoe sit on the edge of a table and...
