He moved to stand behind her again, closer than before. Slowly, as the afternoon lengthened, as the sun moved along the kitchen floor, their breathing returned to a steady, shared lull. As his dick was erect again, he knew he have to quench the hunger completely the second time was easier—no words, no protest, just the slow, yielding slide of hips as he pressed himself to her, the nightgown bunched in his fists, the thin cotton a mere rumor between flesh.

Y/n braced herself with both palms spread in the sudsy basin, her ass shivering as he split her open, the endless blue of her underwear now halfway around her thigh The second time there were no voices, no warnings, nothing but the mute choreography of need that redrew every line between them. He stepped against her as if it were his right, the soft bump of his hips to her ass a question he’d already answered for both of them.