Kissing him hard, Grace makes a soft sound she means as agreement, hand stilling and straying to his hip for the moment so she can steady herself. In a moment or two, she tells herself, she can continue, but right now, she needs just to kiss him, nails digging into his skin, a whimper catching in her throat. She's not entirely sure she'd like being cornered like this by anyone else — past experience tells her as much anyhow — but when it's him, she loves it, how good he feels against her, how her body still strains toward him, always seeking more.