It is an indulgence, a midday moment stolen when she does not often have the opportunity to embrace this kind of spontaneity, and it does feel rather like they are getting away with something, sparing their time for this while the rest of the city goes about their normal business.

He's a welcome weight on her, even in his heaviness, and his hands on her are gentle, mapping, like he intends to learn every place on her that might have been inadvertently neglected during their last encounter — though he'd been a different shape then too, his great size preventing him from attempting these warm, purposeful touches, and now she arches beneath the descent of his fingers as they find their way along the delicate fastenings of her dress.

When his hand slips beneath the unfastened neckline, she hums against his mouth at the sensation, perhaps even tilts herself up in invitation for the swell of her breast to fit into his palm, and she breaks the kiss inevitably with the need to breathe, soft pants as she tilts her chin back to expose the line running down the column of her throat.

His shirt proves to be a bit easier for her to lift, her own slender fingers running along the nape of his neck and then dipping beneath the collar to knead against the firmness of his shoulders, seeking more of that warmth.