Just because she's on top doesn't mean he's passive. Her shoves down at met and answered, his fingers cruelly digging into her hips. He both seeks to hold on in anchor and to pull her down on him in eagerness. Flashes of wicked grins ride through his expression, oscillating with the clenching of his jaw and the creasing of his brow. He practically yelps when she tightens around him, and his hands jump to her lower back, clawing at her to will her just a little deeper.

Sweeney's surprised by her urging him above her. That in no way means he's complaining. He'd wanted this, but assumed he'd need to wait until later in the night. If he were of a clearer mind, he could see the importance of it, but now, it's only a path to getting what he wants.

His kisses are hungry things, hot and plentifully given. One hand catches high up her thigh under the remnants of her skirt, encouraging her to wrap her leg around him. Not that he's going to push the issue; as soon as the request is made, the same hand is in her hair, trying to urge her up so he lick her throat and bite her shoulder.

With a sharp breath, he forces his head to the side, eyes shut, baring the length of his neck to her while he nips at her other shoulder, working to nudge the fabric away to find skin.

Through all of it, his pace doesn't slow. No matter if he's taking or being taken, there is always wanton having.