[ Amos' hands clench - one against her hip and one into the sheets under him - when Clara moves, sits on him, surrounding him with heat and want. He makes a noise at the back of his throat, a little of a groan, and forces himself not to thrust up, leave it to her to pick the speed she wants.
It feels - she feels good. In a place like this at a time like this, where they have very little for themselves and most of what they're doing is guided by uncertainty, this feels good. Easy. Amos doesn't have to wonder what would Naomi think, what would Holden say, what would Prax advise. This is an easy decision, a little selfish, very much like Amos.
He slides his hand around to Clara's back, holding her to him as he can't help it - he does twitch his hips up a fraction once she's sitting all the way on him, unable to prevent the movement. ]
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It feels - she feels good. In a place like this at a time like this, where they have very little for themselves and most of what they're doing is guided by uncertainty, this feels good. Easy. Amos doesn't have to wonder what would Naomi think, what would Holden say, what would Prax advise. This is an easy decision, a little selfish, very much like Amos.
He slides his hand around to Clara's back, holding her to him as he can't help it - he does twitch his hips up a fraction once she's sitting all the way on him, unable to prevent the movement. ]