The taste on the tip of my tongue

She shivered beneath his touch. Interested in the water or not, she would have made no protest if he had grabbed her throat then and there and left her gasping for breath in more than one way. A small moan escaped her as she felt the roughness of his tongue tickle her throat. She made a small noise of protest as he lifted his tongue away, and then his burning white-fire gaze fell upon hers, and he was claiming her lips. She drew her paw up behind his neck. Holding her against him, digging her claws into the nape of his neck. Her back toes scraped against his own digits as she held him close in every way possible. Feeling the rather pleasing length of his desire as she did so.

She sighed softly. Half protest, half contentment as his lips fell away from hers. Somehow, he expected her to have the better restraint and get them into the water. She gave a husky, deep-throated chuckle. The challenge in his voice was the only thing lending her strength as her eyes gave a too-familiar expression of trouble. She thrusted herself upwards, teasing, tauntingly against his width. He was inside of her for all of a breath, and then bucked at just the right angle (with just the right amount of distraction) and gave herself some room. She rolled, hard and fast to the side. Getting out from beneath him before he came down again. Keetie hit the ground running. Laughing, yet also hot and flustered herself. She shrieked as she hit the water. It was warm, but against her flushed skin it was cold. Laughing breathlessly, expecting pursuit behind her, she fell on her back in the water, letting her fur grant her a measure of buoyancy.

"Speech"