She moves with him, willingly, eagerly even, shifting to rise above him. She comes to rest on his chest, straddling his hips, and she rewards his words with a soft, breathless moan, sinking into kissing him like he's the most decadent thing she's ever tasted. Like she can't get enough, which is the god's honest truth.

Slotted together like this, it's impossible to keep still and she doesn't want to. She wants him to know exactly what he does to her. "You make me crazy," she breathes, rolling her hips into his. "And I love every fucking second of it."