She was aware of them — the folded pressure of them against her chest, his weight through them — but the signal from her feet had stopped arriving. Her hands in the grass had stopped gripping. Her voice had stopped forming words.
She was producing sound.
Just sound. The pure, continuous, undifferentiated output of a nervous system at full capacity, the sounds running together into one long, broken, harmonically complex cry that the waterfall could not cover and the forest could not absorb.
"AANGH~!!! NNGHH~!!! MMNGHH~!!! AAANGH~!!! HAAAAAANGHH~!!!"
He kissed her.
His mouth came down and found hers — the open, tongue-out, saliva-running mess of her mouth — and he kissed it. His lips closing over hers, his tongue pressing in alongside her tongue, the full, deliberate, unhurried kiss of a demon who is inside a woman's womb and is kissing her at the same time with his hips still moving.
PAH PAH—
"Mmph~!! Mnngh~!! Mmhhh~!!"
