His low sound of embarrassment at her laugh was short-lived. Whatever plans he might have had, they would have to come until after he had recovered, because Elita was far too skilled for her own good.

The edge came up on him all at once, nearly taking him offline with the surge of intensity. Optimus cried out, optics going white as charge raced through his frame, ringing audials down through his flaring spark and back out again. He jerked against her smaller frame, uncontrolled hands curling against the sides of her helm as he lost himself in a noisy, uncontrolled overload.

He wasn't ready at all, and he hadn't known how easy it was to come completely undone at someone else's touch.