The moonlight still bathed us in its cold, unrelenting glow, every bead of sweat on our skin catching the silver like liquid mercury.
"You like it?" I asked.
May didn't answer. Her hand tightened on my hip, the fingers pressing deeper into the muscle with deliberate strength. The pads of her fingertips dug in first, then her palm followed, pulling me back toward her with a slow, insistent tug.
Her nails created faint, crescent-shaped impressions that I could feel as tiny points of pressure against my skin. She drew me in, closing the minuscule distance I had allowed to form, until the heat of her body enveloped me once more.
A small, needy sound escaped her lips, soft, almost fragile, like the barest edge of a whimper caught in her throat. It lingered in the night air, vibrating through her chest and traveling down her spine in a faint tremor that I could see rippling beneath her skin.
I focused entirely on her.
