And that was when the reality of the situation hit her again. Suddenly, her entire view (or the parts of it that she'd been able to focus on) wasn't just his infuriating, beautiful face anymore, but the street. An empty, tiny side street but still a street, out in the open.

A street where he was now kneeling in front of her with his face between her legs, making the hem of her dress ride up.

Her eyes widened. Two warring, completely jumbled thoughts bucked up against each other in her brain, both oh my god we should not be doing this as well as oh my god this is the hottest thing that has ever happened or will ever happen to me. Though neither quite that clear.

And then her brain was just white noise for a second, because as soon as his lips were around her clit, her body sided with the latter thought, and the hand that wasn't still trying to find purchase against the wall ended up in his hair, grabbing and holding on like he wasn't allowed to move even half an inch while she came around his fingers, against his lips.

The noise she made was strangled, and whimpery.