Mystique pushed herself against him, hands traveling from the sides of his neck down to the back pockets to his jeans, yanking him closer to her and chuckling deviously. ” And you need to keep up, darling — ” She informed him before her lips met his neck and began to leave a trail of red stains in the shape of her lips.
"I thought I was doing a rather decent job keeping up…", Johnny moaned and craned his neck as her lips found it. A hand gripped her dark, red hair, grasping it tight, holding her close, encouraging her. His free hand slid around her waist, down to her jean shorts, where he gave her backside a hard squeeze. "Raven…"