Yorkshire, England – Reality

"What are you doing?" John turned his head to see Anna bringing hers up from where it had been half submerged in her pillow. Or the pillow she had taken as hers.

"Ah…" John coughed and folded down the page on the book. "Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. I heard pages turning so I know you're reading a book." She blinked and wiped at her eyes. "What book are you reading?"

"It's…" John swallowed, "It's just a book."

"We've established it's a book. I want to know which book."

"Oh. It's… I've got…" John fumbled and then noted the deepening frown on Anna's face and he swallowed. "I… I'm not sure I should say."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm…"

"Because you're…" Anna's jaw dropped slightly, "Because you're reading ahead. That's what you're doing, isn't it? You're reading ahead."

"I might've…" John swallowed as Anna's face hardened and he hurried to speak. "Yes. Yes, I was reading ahead."

"Without me?"

"Not on purpose."

"How do you pick up a book to read it and have it not be on purpose?"

"It… I didn't mean to read ahead as far as I did. I was trying to skim and… I didn't… It was… It wasn't supposed to be me reading on ahead without you."

"Why were you reading on without me?"

"It… I wasn't…" John squirmed in place. "I don't… It's a little embarrassing."

"Why?"

"Because I…" John struggled to find the right words, "I'm not sure… It's a little… I wasn't trying to read ahead and I got caught up in it and…"

"And you're enjoying the book?" Anna gave a little laugh. "That's why you're all embarrassed now?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Well, I am, but it's… That wasn't the only…" John took a breath, "It's more…"

"More what?"

"More that I wanted to see if I could get some inspiration."

"Inspiration?"

"Yes."

"And why would you…" Anna's eyebrows rose as her frown fell entirely and she adjusted on the bed, allowing the covers to slide off her. The same covers that then perked up around John's lap. The hint of a smile that played out on Anna's face had John grateful she could not see the tent gaining visible around his hips as he tried to adjust to relieve the pressure building in his lap. "Inspiration huh?"

John swallowed, "Yes."

"And what," Anna traced a finger over the cover between them to find one of John's hands so she could track up his arm. "Pray tell, would you need inspiration for?"

"For what we could, maybe, do next." John swallowed and shuffled the book in his grasp. It accomplished nothing but he had hope it might provide his hands something to do so he could distract his brain from the tightening discomfort in his lap. "If you wanted to when you woke up, that is. Or, just, if you… Wanted to. It wasn't… I don't have any… I didn't want to presume any…"

"Any what?"

"Any…" John's jaw flexed. "You know."

Anna leaned forward, drawing her tongue over her lips. "Any what, John?"

"Anything… Sexual."

"Oh?" Anna grinned at him. "You had sexual intentions?"

"I might've… I didn't…" John coughed and shifted as the sheets rasped over his rising arousal. He bit the end of his tongue to refocus his thoughts before he continued speaking. "I don't have any expectations and I don't want to make any assumptions but I'm… I wanted to be prepared if the situation arose. If the opportunity arose."

"And do you think the opportunity's arisen?"

"Only if you want."

"Then, say I do want…" Anna's fingers pranced up his arm for a moment before dropping back to the bed between them. "Do you have any ideas as to what to do with the inspiration you read ahead to find?"

"I might have some ideas but…" John grimaced, "I can't claim reading ahead inspired me in that regard. Not really."

"That's unfortunate."

"A bit." John huffed, "You'd think a book like this would-"

"That's not what I meant."

John stopped, "What?"

"The disappointment is that you couldn't wait and just ask me if I wanted to read for inspiration with you?" Anna reached out her hand again, found John's shoulder, and traced down to his hands to take the book from him. "Or if I had inspiration of my own to offer?"

John's breath caught in his throat. "I didn't want to impose."

"It's not imposing if I want it." Anna tossed the book aside, the thump of it hitting the floor making John jump just as Anna leaned closer to him, her breath feathering over his skin to leave his nerves on edge. "And, in case you're not getting the cues I'm hoping are visible, I'm very interested in wanting to give you inspiration."

"You are?"

Anna paused, her fingers crawling their way back up his arm to his shoulder and then the back of his neck to scrape her nails there. "Does it not look like I'm interested in giving you inspiration?"

"From what I can see," John cleared his throat and tried not to move as Anna's nails continued to rake gently along the back of his neck. "Yes, yes you do."

"Then, since you're using those eyes and the vision you're still blessed with," Anna's tongue ran over her lips again, "Don't you have something to ask me?"

John swallowed, "Do… If you're…" He cleared his throat to give himself a mechanical way to focus his thoughts as Anna's nails continued to tease the skin at the back of his neck, "I'd like to ask if you want to have sex again."

Anna grinned at him, "Is that the literary inspiration you got from reading ahead?"

"No."

"Then take that as a lesson that you shouldn't read ahead."

"I'll make a note of it."

"Good." Anna smiled at John, "Although, I've a confession of my own."

"Do you?"

"Yes." Anna heaved a dramatic sigh, "I'm glad it wasn't satisfactory for you."

"Reading ahead?" Anna nodded and John frowned slightly even as he shivered again under Anna's touch. "And why are you glad?"

"Because if the only line you gleaned from your reading was one as hesitant and sweetly unsteady as the one you just used, I'd have to reevaluate the kind of trashy romance novels I'm having read to me."

"And why would that be?"

Anna snorted, "Because you don't read them for their award winning quality. You read them to get all flustered and excited and they're, frankly, not good for much else. If they can't provide the most basic of inspirations then what's the point?"

"And what," John forced another swallow as Anna's other hand played with the sheet keeping him in check. "Is the right kind of inspiration?"

"The kind that gets someone in the mood." Anna shrugged a dismissive shoulder, "If they can't do that then they're not good for anything."

"Then I feel obligated to tell you that the portion I read ahead…" John gave an exaggerated sigh, "It didn't get that trashy."

"No?"

"No." John shook his head, even if Anna could not see it. "Not even a little."

"Then what was the point?"

"It was a dialogue scene." John shrugged. "Character building and, possibly, plot driving, if I understood the context."

"Shame," Anna left off her enticing motions at the back of John's neck and trailed her finger down John's arm. She stopped when she reached his wrist and circled it with her fingers. "It could've been interesting to see what ideas you picked up."

"That was the hope." John held his breath, "But we can't always get what we want."

"That's the way of it sometimes." Anna's fingers tightened and she lifted John's hand from the bed. "It does beg another question."

John's breath caught. "And what question is that?"

"What can we learn from this disappointment in our literature?"

"That maybe some books aren't that good."

Anna clicked her tongue to chide him as she put his hand on her waist. Her fingers still circled his wrist, keeping his hand steady on her skin. "Try again."

"That I should've just acted." John's free hand came around to hold at Anna's neck and, a second later, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was nothing spectacular. John did not open his lips or urge Anna to open hers. It simply was the process of kissing at its most basic function. But the process proved to steal Anna's breath all the same and that brought a smile to John's face.

He pulled away after a moment, running his tongue over his lips to moisten them for another round. "And, after I acted, I would've seen where we went from there."

"I like that method." Anna's hand on John's wrist guided his hand up from her waist and did not stop until he landed on her breast. "It gets better results."

"It does."

"And," Anna's fingers released his wrist and she ran them up his arm to leave her palm at his shoulder. "It gives me more incentive to provide inspiration."

"Then I'm making progress." John's thumb gently stroked over Anna's nipple and she shivered in his grasp. "So I'll ask this…"

John leaned forward again, his lips barely touching hers. "With that what I know now, where do we go from here?

"Anywhere we want John." Anna's other hand found John's jaw and her thumb traced over his lips. "Everywhere we want."

"Then let's find out where anywhere and everywhere is."

John closed the distance between them, barely missing Anna's thumb as she curved it sideways to hold lightly under his jaw. Her grip there fluctuated as their kiss did until John broke away. But he chose that moment, when Anna almost gave an exhale of dissatisfaction and her fingers threatened to firm at his jaw to force his mouth back to hers, to flex his fingers on her breast.

The gasping keen she gave, when John's fingers shifted and worked to massage her breast, had John shifting to try and ease a measure of the growing pressure on his arousal. Tugging from the sheet, in its trapped position between the two of them, had John trying to swivel his hips to free himself from the bounds of the fabric without the use of his hands. Hands he knew he should use, to end the ridiculous pantomime his body carried out trying to replicate complex action, but he did not want to release his grasp or lose the chance to continue touching Anna's skin.

So he continued the struggle until he finally admitted defeat and recognized that the lower half of his body proved less than dexterous enough to do the job. With a sinking sensation, John forced himself to lose his grip on the back of Anna's neck so he could curve his arm between them and whip the sheet away to free himself from its confines. It took a moment, the tugging motion proving more distracting than he anticipated, but John successfully threw the sheet to the end of the bed without sacrificing the opportunity to continue kneading at Anna's breast.

Unfortunately, while John hoped the sheet would have simply snapped fee to leave him in a position to continue the decadence of their activities, the material proved less than agreeable to his attempt. Even the image of him dramatically flinging the sheet away for it to flutter on a manufactured wind taunted the reality of his action. Instead, the sheet landed halfway toward the end of the bed in a disappointing slop that John tried immediately to forget.

So much for dramatic romantic gestures. And, as John refocused his efforts on something more sustaining than a failed throw of a sheet, at least Anna could not see it. He could be romantic in other ways and she would…

The little snort Anna let out distracted John from his move to try and take her into another kiss. He frowned, pulling back for a moment, "Did you…"

"Did I what?"

John frowned, "Did you just snort?"

"It was more of a small laugh."

"Then you…" John scrunched his face, "Were you laughing at me?"

"Not at you… specifically."

"But you did just laugh, yes?"

"Did you just try to throw the sheet back?"

John rolled his shoulders and noted the way Anna could not keep her giggles from bubbling up, despite the grasp John still had on her breast. "Maybe."

"Then maybe I laughed." Anna's hand at John's jaw tilted his lips back to hers but stopped just short of putting her lips on his. "Not at you, of course."

"Of course." John nodded, "But you maybe just laughed in my general direction?"

"Maybe." Anna teased back, offering another little snort of laughter.

John gave a snort of his own and closed the distance between them. This time, given the room to maneuver without the sheet pulling him up short, John turned toward Anna and moved closer. His hand on her breast slid lower to hold Anna's waist and he firmed his grip to shift them so he could tip Anna back onto the bed. Her hand fell from his shoulder and landed on the mattress to guide her recline as John used his knees on either side of Anna's hips to hold himself over her.

Breaking away from the kiss again, John shifted to run his lips over Anna's jaw and then down her neck. Her hand, formerly on the mattress, found his hand at her waist and traced the length of his arm to land at his neck. John shivered at the touch, the motion growing more familiar each time Anna executed it.

He leaned into it now, contorting his body to follow Anna's fingers over his skin as they dragged over his shoulders and almost sighing when her nails dragged over the back of his neck. After a few moments of simply basking in her touch, John remembered his original goal and returned to his task of kissing down Anna's neck.

The hand he still held at Anna's waist, flexed into her skin as if to reassure himself that she was still beneath him. Anna shivered at the motion and her own fingers pressed into his skin slightly to bring the tease of a bite to her grip at the back of his neck. John groaned into Anna's skin and shifted his other hand to massage at her neglected breast.

Anna arched into the rectification of a grievous sin, her nails raking over John's shoulders as she whimpered at his touch. John eased the grip of his fingers, lulling Anna's nails at the back of his neck to release their grip on him for a moment, but brought her touch back with a vengeance when his lips moved to take over at Anna's other breast.

The touch of his mouth on one breast while his hand continued to adore the other only encouraged Anna's fingers to spear into John's hair. And she soon proved that John provided an adequate amount of it when she dug in, holding swathes of it in her grip as her nails sunk crescent moon shapes into his skull. Shapes and divots John knew he would find the next time he ran his own fingers over his skin but, for the moment, he was happy to give Anna a reason to touch him. To hold him close. And, if he were being honest, he almost shivered at the thought of remembering this moment when he accidently ruffled his own hair in the future.

So John continued to give Anna reasons to flex her fingers in his skin. To hold him close, by hair or skull. To leave her mark on him as he tried to leave no marks on her.

Instead he would leave her aching with pleasure. The memory of it would sink into her and that would be what he left on her. That was John's intention as he closed his lips over Anna's breast to sucked hard. Hard enough, possibly, to leave a bruise that would be a reminder of what John wanted to continue.

For now it would have to be enough.

And given the way Anna now raked at John's shoulders and through his hair, John almost smiled in satisfaction at his success. But he tried not to bask in the glory of it too long. He had Anna to tend to and her grip on him allowed her the advantage of guidance. Guidance that needed only motion and not words. Words would only get in the way of how she steered his mouth from one breast to the next.

John's thighs burned as he used his knees to dig into the bed and hold himself over Anna so both hands could alternate massaging the breast his mouth left abandoned. His hands shifted, trying to avoid landing on Anna or leaving any of his weight on her as he tried to balance above her. But, eventually, she eased her grip on his scalp before urging him up. John could only hope it indicated a level of satisfaction and found his risk rewarded when Anna brought their lips together again.

Her tongue darted out, tracing his lips as if she could taste her skin there. John tracked the motion and returned the kiss as Anna guided, submitting to any of her demands as he found himself sighing into the graceful simplicity of kissing. A pleasure lost almost too soon when Anna pulled back from him.

Neither of them spoke so John simply lowered his head to her breasts again. He did not stay there long, paying homage more than reverence to them as Anna shifted and writhed beneath him. Instead, John used his lips to track a path down Anna's torso and abdomen to find her hips and any skin within reach. It proved a momentary reprieve for the twinging burn in his legs but John pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he placed a kiss right above the crux of Anna's legs.

Another moment of consideration had John slipping back, his hands running down the length of Anna's legs to urge her toward the end of the bed. She gasped a second and then shuffled to follow as John kneeled on the floor at the end of the bed. It might prove an ache to his knees later but, John admitted to himself, better an ache in his knees than risking a crick to his neck or a burn in his thighs that would end an otherwise enjoyable seduction he did not want to cut short for physical needs.

At least not those physical needs.

What was the human body for pain when there was pleasure to be had? Especially if the pain could be the pinpricks and slight scrapes of nails on his scalp when his tongue ran over the length of Anna's slit? Or when he could feel the crush of her thighs around his ears when he sucked hard at her clit? Or the twinges of pressure on his shoulder where one of her legs rested after he adjusted so he could use one hand to massage at Anna's breasts? Or the twinge in his wrist when his fingers sank deeply inside her, crooking and flexing to find the spot that had Anna clutching at the mattress and shrieking out the climax that wrung her vaginal walls around those fingers?

None of the slight shocks of pain to his scalp, the ache to his jaw, the crick in his fingers, or even the sensation of his head trying to return to his regular shape after being squeezed in the vice of Anna's thighs was worth a comment when he could see Anna's lax and satisfied body splayed out on his bed. So John simply sucked his fingers into his mouth to take the taste of her from them and returned to lap around her folds as he attempted to steal more of her taste while her legs quivered and her body trembled. Trembling that subsided as John traced his way back up her stomach and chest, pausing to leave a kiss on each breast, to Anna's mouth.

Her fingers fell from his hair, gracing over his skin for a moment before flopping back onto the bed. The rise and fall of her chest betrayed Anna gathering her breath again as her eyelids fluttered. John waited until her face turned in his general direction before he pressed his lips to hers for a kiss.

A kiss she immediately seized for her own before breaking away.

"Did-" Anna put her finger on John's lips, not quite the center as she almost landed on his cheek at first.

"Don't speak." Anna took a few breaths before she continued. "I just need to catch my breath a moment. I want to kiss you but… You, quite literally, took my breath away."

John managed a little laugh of his own and kissed at Anna's finger. She went to move it away but John caught her wrist. They both froze for a second before John took Anna's finger between his lips and sucked it. Her breath caught again and then gasped out when John released her finger but kept a hold of her wrist to guide the digit between her legs.

They both kept to the command to not speak as John's hold on Anna's wrist kept her fingers moving between her folds. After a second, their breath come faster now, John carefully guided Anna's fingers to his arousal and coaxed her in the process of using her slicked fingers to run over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, half trying to distract himself so he could enjoy the sensation of Anna's fingers running over him. And, after a moment, Anna slipped her wrist free of his hold and took to moving over the length of him under her own power as if his guidance was no longer necessary.

And it proved not to be. Anna flexed her hold on him, experimenting and responding to the sounds John made until he whimpered and almost begged out a plea for her to release him. Anna did, her fingers leaving his erection but not his skin as her callouses left him shivering in their path up his chest. She did not dawdle or dabble in her journey and only stopped when she reached John's neck. There she formed her palm over his skin and guided him down toward her.

John thought she meant to kiss him but, instead, Anna pressed her forehead to hers. When he went to move she gripped him tighter and John relaxed in her grip, submitting to her silent request for control. And his faith was not misplaced. A moment later Anna's other hand snaked between them and, as her legs opened, she guided their bodies to join.

There was no rush. One of Anna's legs wrapped up around John's hip but it acted more as a place for her body to hold than as an anchor for exuberant activity. Her hand stayed at the back of his neck, despite the gathering sweat as their motions naturally picked up speed, and kept their foreheads together. Their breaths caught and muffled between them as they shifted and twisted to try and resolve the tension tightening and twisting in their bodies. Tension that had John adjusting onto his hands and knees to give himself the leverage he needed to maintain long, smooth strokes into the depth of Anna.

She took these in her stride, using her foot on the bed and her leg over John's hip to angle her body as she needed. Her other hand gripped above John's elbow to give herself a grip for leverage and, soon, they pushed one another toward the edge. An edge John reached a second before Anna did, his body stuttering as he finished and she tightened around him with a gasping cry to cancel out his grunt.

It took a moment, as they finished and allowed their bodies to shudder and quiver to a stop before pulling apart. John pushed himself to the side, slumping sideways and then rolling onto his back. Blinking at the ceiling, he was vaguely aware of Anna shifting and settling up closer to the pillows. After a moment he joined her as their breathing synchronized and sleep threatened to take him.

But the threat fell prey to a thought bubbling at the back of John's mind. A thought that had him rolling to face Anna. Her eyes were closed but the rise and fall of her chest betrayed the lack of depth to the rate of her breathing. After a moment she smiled.

"What?"

"What?" John repeated and Anna only snorted and shook her head.

"What's on your mind?"

"How do you know that something's on my mind?"

"Because I can hear you thinking from here." Anna's eyes opened and she took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I… I had a thought."

"You're the kind of man who has many." Anna's smile grew. "What was this thought?"

"You said something, at least twice, last night that's still on my mind."

"Funny."

"How's that?"

"Because something you said twice last night is still on my mind too." Anna kept her face toward the ceiling but closed her eyes. "You first, since you spoke first."

"That doesn't feel fair."

"If you thought a little less loudly then you would've heard me thinking but you didn't so you have to go first." Anna's hand flailed a second but she found John's side and, taking a finger, poked him. "What's on your mind?"

"Why did you say that you're not afraid of what's yours?"

"Because I'm not." Anna frowned, "Does that bother you?"

"It's…" John shrugged into the mattress and rolled onto his side to face Anna. "You said it twice."

"I might've been afraid you didn't hear me the first time." Anna's finger ran over John's skin. "Or that you wouldn't believe me if I only said it once."

"I think I'm still having trouble believing it now." John took a breath, "If we're in the business of being honest with each other."

"I hope we are." Anna moved, rolling to turn her face toward John. "And, speaking honestly, I was being honest."

"Because it's true?"

Anna frowned, her eyes opened as if an instinctual response to the stimuli of speech. Even if the action accomplished no more clarity for her vision than what she had before, John wondered if the motion signaled the seriousness of her comment to match the tone she used to speak. "Do you not believe it?"

"I've never had anyone say anything like that to me."

"Then know that it is true. I'm not afraid of what's mine and I do consider this," Anna motioned between them… Or as close to the concept of between them as she could manage with the approximate position of the two of them. "As mine. This is mine."

"Then, in the name of honesty," John caught Anna's finger to hold her hand. "I need to ask what 'this' is."

"It's whatever we're hoping to build here." Anna's fingers interlaced with John's and she squeezed. "I'm not afraid of what we could build here or the possibility that we'll fail grandly at it. And, because I've a feeling you've got it buzzing at the back of your brain, I'm not afraid of you either."

"I think a part of me still is." John lowered their hands between them on the bed, examining them. "Is that bad?"

"No." Anna shook her head, her thumb tracing over their joined knuckles. "I think it's a fair response."

"Thank you." John kissed the back of her hand. "Sincerely."

"I don't think you can be anything less than sincere."

"I try not to be." John kissed the back of Anna's hand again before taking a breath, "So what was troubling you?"

"Nothing's troubling me."

"You said you had-"

"I said I had something on my mind, not that it was troubling me."

"Are you always this pedantic?"

"A bit." Anna grinned and teethed at her lip. "But it has been bouncing around the back of my brain."

"What is?"

"That you claimed, twice, that I'm above you."

John squeezed Anna's hand. "You were, at least once, and you could be again if you like that position for sex."

Anna swatted at John, landing more on his arm than his shoulder. "You know what I mean and don't deny it."

"I won't." John settled, holding Anna's other hand to kiss her palm before releasing it. "And yes, I did say that."

"Why?"

"Because you are."

"No, I'm not."

"But you-"

"No, John," Anna interrupted him, shaking her head and pushing herself up to lean her weight on one arm. "I'm not. And I hope you won't continue to think that."

John pushed himself up as well, releasing his hold on Anna's hand to better lift himself into position. "Why not?"

"Because it's not true."

"It's true to me."

"But's it's not reality, John, and it puts me on a pedestal I don't deserve. More to the point," Anna took a deep breath, "It's dangerous."

"How?"

"First off, I'm blind so being on a pedestal's a recipe for disaster because I'm certain to fall off the edge." They both spared a few giggles at that but when they settled John recognized the seriousness in Anna's sober expression. "But it's also because you thinking I'm better than you, or above you, puts you at great risk of devastation."

John blinked at her. "What?"

"It's…" Anna paused, her face scrunching as if she did not like the words at her disposal and she searched for possible replacements that would better fit the meaning she wanted. "It's dangerous because it means the inevitable moment you discover I'm human and have been all along, you'll be devastated."

"I don't think that'll happen."

"It will." Anna nodded, almost emphatic in the motion. "Just like any fan who's ever put some actor or musician or influencer or author or whatever that they love in a position of infallibility, you'll be crushed when I do something human and the very foundation of what we might've built will be forever cracked. Maybe not beyond repair but cracked nonetheless."

"And you think I'll never recover?"

"I think that we should reconcile, here and now, that the image you have of me may not be the real thing." Anna released a heavy breath. "I don't want you to break the porcelain version of me to realize it was never me."

"That's fair." John found Anna's hand, tracing lines on it as he held it palm up in his own. "But I don't think you realize that I didn't put you on a pedestal because I think you're above me and therefore unattainable."

"No?"

"No." John kissed her palm and then her wrist before speaking again. "I put you up there so I can reach for you. So I can be as you are."

"And how is that?"

"Wonderful and vivacious and vibrant and worth the effort." John leaned forward, shifting hair behind Anna's ear as he kissed her cheek. "If you're not afraid of what we have, of what it might become, then I've all the more reason to reach for the pedestal I put you on so I can join you there."

He pulled back, his fingers running over Anna's jaw. "If I'm up there with you, I'll stop you tumbling over the edge."

"Then I'll stay up there. But only under those conditions." Anna turned her head to kiss John's palm. "But know this, I'm not afraid of this not because I think it won't go wrong but because I'm not afraid of how it could go wrong."

"And you'll trust anyway?"

"Of course." Anna almost scoffed. "I know we could screw up. I know we could possibly break one another's hearts. It's the risk you take when you give someone the power to hurt you while trusting they won't."

"That's bold."

"Because I also know," Anna put her hand over John's and used her palm over his arm to put her hand on his cheek, "That while we're fallible, we're also capable of rectifying our mistakes. We can cock it all up and then fix it together."

"If it can be fixed."

"I believe it can be." Anna shrugged, "It's why I'm not afraid of making my mistakes and claiming them as mine."

"Because we'll fix them together?"

"Because they're worth fixing together." Anna paused, "Do you agree?"

"I do." John kissed Anna. "I do."

It took a little adjustment to align themselves but John soon found himself sitting up with his back to the headboard and Anna on his lap. Their kiss fluctuated as they sought and ceded control between them. Fingers and hands flexed and traced, found and fondled until their kisses broke more often than held as their breathing picked up under the enticing lure of arousal. And, soon, they came together again.

As before they moved slowly. This time John's hands at Anna's hips and ass proved the leverage she needed while bending his legs and pressing his shoulders into the headboard provided what John needed to angle his hips so his thrusts drove deeper. They dotted kisses over skin and raked nails where words failed them. Especially when John returned to lavish attention at Anna's breasts and she rose up on her knees to increase the length of her drives down John's erection.

Eventually they came together again, shaking and quivering in one another's arms. They spoke in short sentences, kissing lazily between the steadying of their breaths and the slowing of their chests as their heart rates returned to normal. And, eventually, they separated to lay back on the bed after John rescued the sheets and cleaned them both with a rag so they could lie back in a little more comfort.

After a moment John found Anna's hand and interlaced their fingers again. "I want this too, by the way."

"Good." Anna let out a breath, "Good."