Inspired by the fireplace Abbie and Crane sat in front of. I hope you can really feel their intimacy, passion, and love through this. Your feels are welcome. :)
They twisted, coiled, weaved in front of the fireplace. Crane's fingers roved Abbie's body. He kissed the whole of her skin, swamped into her lips, and whispered her name in various languages until her breathe snared itself in her lungs. Her tongue latched with his; his speech, moans, sighs tinkled her ears while her skin shrunk and expanded with and without his kisses and fingertips. Her light brown eyes soaked in his shoulder blades, chest, collar bone, his sealed, then gaping eyes, his clasping palms, his starved lips. The scent of pine wedged in her nostrils. She assembled herself in front of him, legs swathed on either side of his hips. As the heat of the fire flounced across her bare, arched back, she kissed him, bound them together again. She coddled, indulged the both of them until she could no more.