It happens when they’re fucking.
She’s on her hands and knees on the bed, ass in the air and back curved as he drives his cock into her, thrusts so powerful that she has to grip the sheets to keep from falling over. But, he doesn’t relent, just digs his fingers into her shoulders to pull her back with each forward push of his hips, groaning as she gasps out his name.
He’s usually not this rough, this frenzied, feeling like his body is too tight and too hot, like he’s about to crawl out of his skin. But, she had been wearing that *dress*, all generous curves and sharp eyes and even sharper smile, with a confidence he hardly ever sees and he-
(He sat there across the dinner table, nerves popping like firecrackers as she ran her hand down his arm, tongue heavy as she laughed and *god*, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, watched, *enraptured*, as she leaned over and looked up at him with those pretty, *pretty* brown eyes of hers, biting her lip, and he wanted to take her right there, right in front of everyone; wanted to lift her atop the table, throw her legs over his shoulders and bury his face between her thighs, worship her and show everyone that she was *his and only his* and-)