Yuna, beside her, had turned.
Not toward Gareth. Toward Raven.
The girl who had arrived in this room two days ago with a dress and a suitcase and an anxious, excited energy was not entirely present in Yuna's face anymore — what was there instead was something that had been built over the last several hours in the demolition of the previous architecture, something that was oriented 'toward' him with the specific, irresistible gravity of a body that had been introduced to something and could no longer not want it.
She turned her face into his neck.
Her lips finding the skin there.
"'My body,'" she said, against his throat, her voice carrying the faint smile of someone who is reporting on a situation they find both embarrassing and true, "'cannot do much more.'"
His hand found her ass.
The full, soft weight of it, pulling the cheek upward.
"'Your body,'" he said, "'already did what I wanted.'"
"'Slurrp~... Mhnn~...'" — Yuna, mouth still at his neck, smile still in her voice.
