Kell had never thought of Neria as stoic, but he'd never seen her fray at the edges quite like this. He'd never thought of her as repressed, but she'd never been so aggressive about what she wanted.

It sang through him, her eagerness and hunger, a feeling and intimacy that loved but wasn't soft, and found that it was exactly what he needed. Something in Kell rose fiercely to match it, stunned and bristling in his eyes as he caught his breath.

She tore at him with her nails, edged into burning, and Kell bared his teeth in a gasp caught between adrenaline and pleasure. It felt like scratching an itch. Deep. Soul-deep. Like she'd reached down and raked her fingers across something tingling and agitated and begging to be touched. A startled low sound spilled out, and he eagerly drowned it in her mouth.

Forgot himself, pressed down and against her body, pushing and arching and grinding between Neria's thighs, chest to chest and skin on skin, hair falling past his face.

She was softer, hotter than he would have thought possible, the friction between them unbearable, clothing quickly restrictive, then damp.