And he leaned over her, grabbing her hair, devouring her mouth, pressing his lips and teeth and tongue and hands all over her, pushing into her again and again, finding a rhythm with her body. She lifted her hips up to meet the snap of his, tightening around him, crying out as he found all the most electric parts of her body, rolling his fingers over her nipples, sucking her lower lip in between his teeth, pressing his fingertips to her clit. She clung to him, her fingernails digging in to his shoulder blades, the muscles in his back, the perfect skin over his hips, his full arse. She ran her hands over his arms, shoulder to wrist, over the muscles of his forearms, tense with the effort of holding himself up. She felt the rough texture of his scar under her fingers, and unthinkingly lingered there, squeezing as he thrust into her, pulling yet another soft cry of pleasure from her lips.