Liliana Vess Defiant Necromancer

Whole salacious sonnets had been written for her in the past and none of them had done a damn thing for her even half so much as that single moan had.

She bit down on his throat, hips responding to the encouragement of his hands and yearning noises both, and whispered to him, "Tell me you want me."

It wasn't a question. It was never a question; Ignis didn't let it be a question. But she wanted to hear it, his deep voice in her ear, with that soft, rolling accent that neither Prompto nor Gladio shared. A rich voice that promised sin and salvation, both. Honestly, she might have fallen in love with his voice, even before--

Her hands slid beneath his open shirt, following the contours of his body, fingers finding the dips and curls of the musculature under his skin, the lines and scars across it, her own aching need rising to a fever pitch.

"Know that I need you."