It was far from the only time Kell had rubbed off against someone through their clothes, but this time it was far from enough. He could feel the heat of her, the promise of how slick and wet, and he flinched under the sting of her nails. The kind that had him pressing insistently, desperately into more of that aching touch.

Kell reached between them and pulled open the top button of Neria's trousers. The second, the third, and slid his hand inside to cup her, pressing his palm over hot, soft skin, curving his fingers down and between her legs, trapped between cloth and her wet heat.

Kell hooked a finger, drew the tip of it down and over the hood of her clit, not quite touching her directly -- but he rubbed past it to press that fingertip against her slit, tracing down it to stroke her open.