It seemed to him everything they did was more intense for the limited space, small movements no less powerful for the lack of scope. He twisted his fingers slightly on each inward thrust and continued rubbing slow circles with his thumb.

His awareness had centered down to how she felt against him, the choppy sounds of their breaths interspersed with desperate, furtive vocalizations, the delicious sting of teeth over his shoulder.

He kissed the side of her head, anywhere he could reach. He wanted her badly enough that it was an ache, sharp and visceral. He reached his free hand between them to tug at the laces of his breeches, hard, impatient jerks that were nothing like the way he handled hers.