The squeeze of her thighs brings one of his hands back to her hair, trying to urge her mouth to his. "I gá duit." The words yield to a whimper when she indulges him.

Without his boots, the curl of his toes is easily noted. It takes a serious effort not to thrust up into her, but he's still trying to be mindful of his stitches and letting her stay in charge. Neither is easy.