Disclaimer: Doctor Who owns my soul, I own nothing.
Spoilers: None
Thanks To: Sinecure for the beta
Author's Notes: Written for Ladychi for her birthday.

He says it's a gift, she swears he just can't shut up. The bet is twenty quid.

He whispers in her ear, the things he'll do to her.

Two minutes in and she's still laughing, although a bit breathlessly.

Three minutes later, he's wiped the smirk off her face.

Before long, he has to tie her to the bed. Then, not even five minutes after that, she's begging for release.

Eventually, he takes pity on her, settles between her legs. Breathing out, words ghosting over her center, he listens to her screams, smiling.

She never complains about his gob again.