For a moment, the feedback loop of their pleasure overwhelmed him completely. He froze, panting against the underside of her ribs. Pushing himself up onto one arm, he helped push the last of their clothes out of the way, rumbling out a low laugh as they rushed to kick them to the floor.

The room was dark, but the light from the streetlamps outside cast her in a relief of glowing skin and shadows, and there was a familiarly spirited tilt to her smile. She wasn't afraid of him, or of this.

Setting a hand against the inside of her thigh, he spread her knees open, looking down upon her with an intensity that many found unnerving. "Do you ever touch yourself?" He asked, his tone matter of fact, as if approaching a puzzle to solve. He could look for the answer himself, and she would let him, but he wanted to hear her say it.