The orgasm shredded her, ripped the tension from her muscles, ripped the propriety and polish and, for the moment, even the purpose from her. Any anxieties the day had left her with also fled when Neil put the hammer down and shattered her beneath it.

She floated above herself--at the same time she felt deliciously, deliriously grounded by his weight pinning and holding her down.

"Good," she murmured, hand smoothing through the sweat slick along his spine. There had been another word, but it didn't make it out because she couldn't catch her breath; she was too busy catching every last sensation and the desperately sweet unnamed emotions that went with them.

"Good god." Yes. Those words. There. She flung one arm out, free, away from him to encourage her chest to rise, and compensated by holding tighter with the other, arm winding low around his hips to keep him close.

"Neil." Sweet, merciful fuck. What was he doing to her?