Muriel held on, just held on for dear life as her climax ripped through her, turned her to something molten and and fragile at the same time. Dimly, she was aware of George's grip, of the sounds coming from him as he pulled and shook and followed her, but her body was so greedily full of her own pleasure that his barely registered.
But his mouth on hers brought her back, warm and crushing. Pulled her back into her body with its heart beating hard and its lingering twitches and the sweat beads rolling down between her shoulders. Her fingernails were in his skin and she left them there, couldn't let go.
When he finally broke the kiss, she gasped a breath; a great, heaving one that was as much a moan as a way of gaining air. She felt shaky, winded and fragile and full of something warm and heavy.
"George," she breathed. There wasn't much else to say.