He loves it too. All of it; that she's loud enough that the crew of the ship (and possibly the neighboring one) knows just how much she's enjoying herself, her silence telling only him how much more she is in that moment. But most of all, he loves the tight grip and wake of ripples wrapped around him. It's never too long before he follows suit.

There's wincing and snarling before the kick, and he's left trembling and twitching after. Sweeney does his best to avoid collapsing on her, but it normally just leaves him propped on an elbow, nuzzling and nipping at her neck as he pants against it.

"No other trouble like you, Trioblóid," he murmurs, willing his breath to slow.