Yours, she answers, thrilling to the sound of his voice. God, the sounds that he makes.

If quick and hard is what he wants, she's willing, eager to join him. She holds him tight, hands stroking his shoulders, her own voice rising in quiet, panting growls, soft cries that urge him on. Seated like this, she doesn't need the extra stimulation, and gently guides his hand to her hips. Her legs pull him in tight, her hips rocking in time with his thrusts.

She whispers his name against his lips, pleading. She tips her head to one side and offers her neck to his mouth.