She shivers when he kisses her, pulls the heat from her veins and manipulates it elsewhere, coiling and burning in ways that she can feel are torturing him the same way. Unfamiliar, but to hell if it doesn't make her heart race. He may break the kiss, the pair of them breathless and giddy, but as his hand wanders, her lips do the same. To his jaw, down to his throat, up to the lobe of his ear, breath whispering giggles she can't seem to keep down. Not this time.

But she shifts, as if tilting to let him get at her waistband all the easier, her own hands wandering, skimming along the edge of his own in turn. And maybe she's tilting her hips again, maybe it's impeding his grip, but worth it for the pleasure of grinding them both together. She thinks of rolling them over again, just for the sake of getting at him... She doesn't, biting light at his jawline instead. She may not let this one night be enough. As if it could ever be enough.