He groans and tries to arch, but he's pinned by her and trapped and she's coming, and the pulsing heat between his legs hits boiling point. He writhes under her, gasping for air and struggling to pull his trousers away enough to avoid the mess.

'Keep...jus'...'

In the end, he's not aware of any of it. He's yanked her top up, and his too; the second her skin rubs the heat of his, his shoulders arch them both off the bed, his strained cry lost in the bright flash of pleasure that burns through him, leaving nothing but exhaustion, and relief, and a wet mess between their bodies. But he's still kissing her, kind of, lips near hers and breathing her breath, sucking in her air like it'll keep his heart beating.