He started moving.
Slow at first, long and deliberate, his hands spread wide across her hips, each stroke carrying its full weight from beginning to end. She had both hands flat on his back, her legs wrapped around him, her heels pressing into him gently on each forward drive.
"Mm," she said, quietly, the sound arriving before she decided on it.
He kept the pace exactly where it was, not building toward anything yet, just staying in it, feeling the warmth of her around him and the warmth of the room and the specific quality of the afternoon that had settled into the lake house since they came inside.
Her hands moved from his back to his shoulders, pressing there.
"Haa," she said. "Oh."
He drove slightly deeper and she exhaled against the side of his face, her whole body receiving it and adjusting to it without her deciding to adjust.
