What is he supposed to do when she sings so sweetly? Sweeney doesn't slow when his eyes flash open, seeking hers to make sure they're on the same page. Everything about what she's doing feels like an invitation, but he's wary to assume without being able to see her face. But when he does, there's a wash of relief at the answer.

He allows himself deeper. Eager but not cruel, he at least tries to manage his pace with every inch he takes. He sneaks kisses between stolen breaths. Gods, she's like a summer's day, tasting of sweat and ripe fruit; a labor rewarded.

Eventually, their hips meet, and a trembling moan grazes her lips.