And Kate doesn't speak for the duration of it; she couldn't even if she wanted to. What he's doing to her feels so good, it's too difficult to focus on anything else.

Eventually she gives up trying entirely, just letting his hands mold and control her, carried away by the sensations he's awakening in her flesh.

Her fingers stay firm at his thigh, pressing into his skin when he hits a particularly sensitive spot, and wandering the soft flannel of his sleep pants when he hasn't.