The beauty of her up against the wall was that it freed his hand to slide into her hair, a low groan of appreciation for her leaving his throat as he allowed himself to grind up against her, his hips rhythmically pressing into hers.
"Everything," he whispered, breath hot against her ear as he pulled the lobe between his teeth with a soft chuckle. There was nothing he didn't want to do with her, to her, especially now that he had her in his arms, a whimpering, quivering, utterly beautiful mess.