Maybe she should get out of town too, he wondered… he would feel better knowing she was far away, but that would just make it really, really obvious that she knew something was coming, and that would put her in even more danger. “I love you Marcie,” he breathed heavily, grinding against her as his hands explored her curves. “So fucking much. You fighter, you absolute warrior. No one can stop you.” He kissed her so deep she had no chance to reply, and pulled her firmly on top of him, one hand buried tight in the tangle of her hair.
It didn’t take much to straddle his hips, finding the hardness of him and sliding him slowly inside her. She kissed him back just as firmly.
He believed in her. He called her strong, he loved her fierceness, he was hers and she would find him again. She bit her lip as she rode him, hands braced on his shoulders when he allowed her to pull back a bit. “Yes,” she moaned softly, “gods yes.”
He murmured her name again as they moved together, not so fast this time, and a different kind of desperate than the night before. Still trying to memorise everything, still trying to save every little memory up for when he was gonna need it to get him through, like memories were a thing you could bottle, keep in a first aid kit in the back of the car with the spare tyre and the sleeping bags and the forged documents to start a life somewhere else.
He rolled his hips underneath her, ran his hands over her body, memorised the feeling of being beneath her, inside her, the way each movement affected him as the pressure grew. “Marcie…” he groaned. He didn’t want to come, he didn’t want this to be over.