Lyra falling into his chest as he wraps his arms around her front. “Must have good taste, then,” she snips, adjusting the leather jacket on her shoulders. “Debatable,” he mumbles before pressing his face to the side of Lyra’s head, burying his nose into her loose curls like a psycho. I joke that he’d live inside of her body if he could. Which turned into a long-winded debate about a vore kink.
