Maybe, he thinks, shortly before all coherent thought leaves him once again - maybe it might be possible for him to just wrap himself in her, to hold her so close to him that it's impossible to tell where he ends and she starts.

She hoists her legs up around his waist and leaves his hands free to move over her, and he leans forward to cover her even as his hips piston forward, driving so deep and hard that for a second he's worried he's hurting her before she cries out again. He turns his face in against her neck, panting roughly, kissing her pulse point between breaths as they collide, drift apart and come back together again.