She's not sure she'd put anything entirely past him at this second, and maybe that's what makes her laugh when he grins that crazy, manic grin that is all mischief and all only his, after flipping her back to the bed, sending her hair around her, and back from her shoulders for the most part, before he's moving.

Before his mouth lands against her breast, warm and wet and sharp, and it forces a moan out of her mouth as she's arching into that feeling, and him, pressed along her body, solid and heavy with promise. Her own hand restless on the bed only a few seconds, before it's in his hair instead, across the back of his head.