This time, he'd do it face to face with her, but next time? Oh, it was going to be the Positions Olympics. Her fingernails stung his skin, he felt it the nice burn of it. Then he picked up his pace again, pushing with his hips now, as well as his back.
He wasn't talking, but that didn't mean that sounds weren't escaping his mouth. Happy sounds. Needy sounds. Sounds that would tell anyone who would've been eavesdropping *exactly* what was going on behind his bedroom door.