Loxley responds to that, the comfortable weight of her leg hooked up onto his, by nudging his own to nudge between hers. It feels a little more like how they might lay together after they've done everything they've indulged in, but this lazy lapses of energy feel just as good too. Good, to simply be with someone in simple ways.

Still—

Humour has the corners of his eyes crease, and he says, "I do like watching you move," a confession, but there's no physical push to change anything up—at least, not forcefully. The trail of his fingertips shifts lower, knuckles brushing down the centre of her abdomen, over the scarring there, and then further down, touching that warm juncture of her thighs at the same moment he leans in to kiss her.

"And listening to you sigh and gasp," he says, and with a smile audible in his voice, "and tell me what you want."