GAR
He got lost in her then, the warm rush of her breath, the friction between them that set them both alight. The way she rippled under his hands and whispered his name.
He wasn't sure when, but at some point he cupped the back of her head, wrapped an arm around her waist, and twisted to lay himself down on the couch, pulling her down on top of him so he could touch all of her, but she felt free to move, to get away if she needed to.
But Rika's fear had dissolved. He could smell it—or the lack of it. She seemed wholly focused on him, pressing herself against her, wriggling and writhing, her fingers digging into his neck, his hair, and her kiss becoming frantic.
