She grabbed him by the shoulders, preventing him from tipping over entirely. By this point, his eyes were half closed, and his shirt was drenched with sweat. She pushed him back on the chair and Marc remained as such without protest. It was as though he was in a state between the dream realm and the waking world.
Émilie unbuttoned his coat and shirt exposing the muscular chest with the sparse hair. She ran a tongue from between his pectorals down to his belly button. As expected, there was no response from Marc.
“Good boy,” Émilie said. “Why don’t we get you to bed.”
Like a good little soldier, he complied, and would have no memory of doing so.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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