There was a response on the tip of her tongue, but the words never made it past her lips, lost instead in a soft, breathless moan. That had to be enough of an answer for him, she imagined, one hand falling to the bed under her, fingers fisting in the sheet just to have something to hold onto. The hand in his hair tightened as well, though she was aware enough -- just barely -- not to pull too hard, using it more to anchor herself than anything. She could get swept up in this easily, forget herself, lose herself in the sensations. That was always easy for her, always living in the moment, but Sawyer made it easier.

He made a lot of things easier, more natural.

A strangled sort of half groan escaped, something that was almost a word, almost his name. The muscles in her legs tensed and Lily could feel pleasure curling in her, her feet flexing against the mattress as her hips arched up. "God," she breathed, her fingers twisting hard in the sheet as she came, waves of pleasure rolling through her. Her legs tensed again, then relaxed as she let another long, shuddering sound slip out from between her lips.