The kiss swallows her moan, her whole body shuddering against him, and she clings tighter when she feels him follow right after. The high of this motion is overwhelming—a completely different feeling compared to when she pleasured herself. It’s a foreign motion, bringing out conflicting feelings.

This is her first time. It’s a man that she can’t remember, but one that her body instinctively surrendered itself to. She allows him to pull her down without complaint, resting her cheek against his chest, though her breathing’s still uneven. Her arms curl loosely around him, half out of instinct, half out of not knowing what the hell else to do.

“…Don’t get used to this,” she mutters, her voice low and rough with exhaustion, but there is no real bite in it. The anger has settled for the time being, and her only desire now is to rest.