Finally. Finally it happened. Without interruption. No fear, no Napoleon, and no bellhop to bring them back to their senses. Just his lips on hers and her hands still gripping his shirt. Although he was trying to be gentle, she could feel his want for her surging through him like an electrical current, not unlike the way she had also felt him coursing with rage in the past. But unlike then, when she had tried to calm him, to keep his anger at bay, now she only wanted to encourage him.
After a moment, she rose up onto her toes to try to deepen the kiss, but the fine, silky sand shifted beneath her feet making her shorter still. She began to laugh softly through her nose, her lips still pressed to his, before she finally had to pull away. "I'm sorry," she laughed apologetically, "I'm so sorry. It's just that... Is there a rock or something I can stand on?" She looked down to where her heeled shoes had been cast aside next to Illya's. Letting go of him, she leaned over to grab the shoes and slip them onto her feet. Fortunately, the pumps had a wider stacked heel, so they did not sink into the sand as readily as her kitten heels would have. She looked back up at Illya with laughter in her eyes, the high difference not much improved.