Things moved quickly from that point. He didn't bother undressing her further, only pushing aside the fabric in order to reach the space between her legs. He pushed his fingers in first to pave the way for the rest of him, since this was an unfamiliar angle. He had to keep one hand on the gag to keep it tightly in place, which made guiding himself into her slightly more clumsy, but it didn't take long even so. He let out an involuntary, shuddering gasp as he completed the first slow thrust. This felt different than their previous encounters, even the last one. Maybe it was the length of time between that night and this one, or maybe the new position, or maybe only his imagination, but his wife's body felt so tight that he very nearly lost himself in the sensation.

Tiberius leaned forward over her as he continued, building momentum. He thought briefly that he ought to say something to her — something derogatory, something mean, something fitting the position that he'd forced her into — and moved to do so, but he couldn't focus his mind on the task while still keeping up the rhythm. He found himself biting lightly on her earlobe instead, just because he was there — until the rhythm built to a climax and he gave off a small moan, a noise that would in another other context have been entirely out of character for him. As his body relaxed he loosened his grip on the fabric he'd used to gag her and let go of her ear, instead burying his face momentarily in her tangled hair.