Amon turned his head towards Syl and smiled.
Her confused expression deepened, and his hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist.
"What the…" She stuttered. "What are you doing?"
Her voice was calm enough, but the flushing of her cheeks couldn't be hidden.
"You don't mind, do you?" He asked. "It's getting a bit chilly."
Syl gulped, having suddenly being pulled closer.
Too close.
She had been pulled to the center of the bed, and her chin was hanging just above his pectoral muscle while her breasts were pressed against his other pectoral muscle.
"I don't mind," She whispered while pulling back. "But I would rather…"
Syl's words trailed off as his hand slowly pushed her down.
Her eyes opened wide as she suddenly found herself lying by his side with her head resting against his chest, his arm around her, and his hand on her head.
"I'll make sure the Chief realizes how useful you've been to him all this time, and I'll make sure that he regrets having lost you."
