"We shouldn't," she said, her eyes fluttering between meeting my gaze and looking at my lips.
Jones wasn't dressed to seduce, but did it anyway. Her red hair pulled back in a half ponytail highlighted her fine features, her slender neck bared as she involuntarily tilted her head to present it, a slight red flush under her skin. She wore a button down sweater over a v-neck t shirt. My gaze crept hungrily down her slender form - and saw the ring shining on her finger. She was getting married soon. Not to me.
I didn't respond, and took a step closer to her. Her breath caught, and for a moment it seemed that she would take a step back, but she didn't.
She breathed my name. I took another step forward, and her eyes met mine for a dangerous second before she looked down. "We can't. I'm enga-" my hand caught her throat and choked her last words away.
Her little moan was all the permission I needed, and the hand she put on my chest to stop me had no force in it.
I crushed my body against hers and my lips devoured hers hungrily. Her hand on my chest tightened, grabbing a fistful of shirt, her nails scratching across my skin, and my grip on her throat tightened instinctively.
My free hand worked its way beneath her shirt, up the smooth skin, and found the lacy bra she was wearing. She broke the kiss for a moment. "No," she said, her eyes full of lust and her mouth hanging open afterwards.
I listened to her body, not her words; I pulled her bra down and grabbed her breast in a firm grip. Her eyebrows contracted upwards, and I suddenly remembered what it sounded like when she came. I felt myself grow hard, painfully so, my erection straining at the seams of my pants like a wild thing that yearned to be free. I shoved it against her crotch, and even through both of our jeans I felt her warmth.