She wasn't the only one feeling it. Or he wouldn't be involved. He'd have backed out even if it had hurt her, if he wasn't into it. It was often so hard to turn his brain off, but it definitely wasn't doing much thinking right now, for once in far too long.
He lived too much inside his own head. And she had pulled him out of it.
He helped to shrug out of the top, and he tossed it somewhere to the side, not caring where it ended up. And he groaned softly as her hands explored the planes of his chest, the tight muscles taut under his skin.
Then his lips pulled away for a moment and he gave a huff of a laugh, a quiet surprised thing, before he flipped them over, putting her on top. It was his turn to grasp the her of her shirt and start pushing it up. Fair was fair. A top for a top.