Slow fumbling on both their parts, really. Intentionally. Her skin raw against the coarse fabric of his trousers, teeth still hungry when they snap idly at his ear before he drops too low for it. Before she's tense and drawn up and quiet under the warm, damp roll of his tongue.

Soft enough to stand out more than the scrape of his zipper, and she forgets-- briefly-- to work her hips the way she had been before.