By now, between her and Dory the heat from their bodies had dried her chemise somewhat; it was for this reason that the fabric brushing up against her skin caused something electric to shoot down her spine as he brushed it up and over her chest. It was by reflex that she felt herself press further into his lap as he sat them down, feeling her shoulders flex with newfound freedom as he peppered exquisite kisses along her jaw.

The feeling of his hands on her bare back saw a gasp escape from her as she stretched, her hand coming to take the chemise and willingly pull it over her head.

There, looking down at him, her eyes dark, she recognized the famished look on his face from last night — a night that seemed so long ago, she had been so certain there was an inward shift between then and now — which was now reflected in her own expression. Watching him for a moment, bathed in moonlight against the lush greenery of the forest, she felt that growing, familiar hunger pool in her abdomen once more, curling and twisting until it propelled her forward and she captured his mouth once more with hers, this time her hands moving to his shirt, tugging desperately at the buttons to remove the last bits of fabric between them. More, more, more.

It was as if something else possessed her, and she was no longer the timid, careful Mabel who had fallen in the lake. Perhaps it was Dory who had done something to her, who drew this part of her out, on whose face she wanted to see this awed, ravenous expression, or perhaps it was how sick she had been of feeling helpless, feeling vulnerable and fragile.

As she trailed kisses along his jawline and back to his mouth, her lips found his and she caught his bottom one between her teeth before giving it an experimental nibble.

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