“Don’t.” Was all he said, the rough Russian accent causing your hand to flinch away from his thighs and back to its normal place at your side.

Nikto sat up, wiping your saliva from his lips. You’d just had a very heated make out session, in which you forgot his simple rule:

‘don’t be sexual.’

He sighed softly, gently rubbing his temple before taking you by the waist and forcing you to sit in his lap.

“We…I…” he trailed off, gently sighing again. “Just don’t.”