He cries out into her mouth, the sensation from the back of his neck shooting down his spine. He wants this, he's wanted this, and he needs her and---

They should be talking, he thinks. They should be organizing their feelings and he should promptly be leaving, getting away before someone realizes that he's here. Instead, he's holding her against a wall and shagging her and that's not fair. It's not fair to how they feel.

Still, he can't stop. He doesn't want to.

He works to a slow, steady rhythm, slowly speeding up his thrusts as he does.

"Rose," he moans, holding her close. "Rose."