This is the kind of sex Joan wishes she could have every day. Order her around, bend her over, treat her like something sexy and needful and worth touching. Treat her like she's so hot the other person can't control herself. Not all of her fantasies go like this-- she enjoys being in control-- but the more often someone makes her swear that she really, really is interested in them, the more she wonders if it's her.

If she was really attractive, people wouldn't be so slow to take her at her words.

So she gasps when Ren pulls her head back, moans when she's bitten and kissed. This is good, great, it doesn't matter what or who Ren is. Joan lets herself forget. She spreads her legs and pushes herself against the tree.