Neville grinned and scooped her up in one movement, entering her as they pounded back against the window, the wall, any spot they could reach. She was deliciously warm and wet. Neville was beyond lust, beyond technique. Enola wrapped her strong thighs around his waist and encouraged him with her movements, mewling throatily as she sent her tongue into battle in his mouth again. She'd missed this so much, missed him. And he was just the same. How could he have let himself become such a poor husband? He'd make it up to her now, as often as he could.