As his hands pulled the jersey upwards just slightly, Harold's hand slid along her hips a bit firmly as though he wanted to hold on to each bump and grind that came his way, gliding his hands until they were partially upon her bottom. Or rather, as far as his reach could attend to. Unable to help himself much longer, hips moved upwards slightly, returning each grind that she gave him with one of his own. "Merlin's beard on a stick, Kegg," he replied in a half breathlessly sort of way. She was remarkable in every action she accomplished on top of him, which of course he had an inkling about after their shagging bits. "You're amazing already."