Her nails in his flesh makes him hiss in short bursts each time his momentum forces them deeper. The pressure of her increasingly tight grip around him only has him trying to fuck the victory out of her, and he commits to the effort with wild abandon. The relative softness of her mouth on his arm has his scalp tingling, lulling him into acute awareness, and he doesn't see the bite coming. Or her.

The yelp doesn't have time to blossom before he grits it into a snarl, but by then he's already tripping over the intensity in every nerve, all screaming and burning to just let go and live in the fire. Or at least die trying.

Sweeney can't help but yield himself to her with a purer cry as he shutters and rocks forward for every fraction of an inch he can steal. The shift in his weight forces more onto Laura's shoulders, pushing her further into the bed. But he couldn't avoid it if he wanted to, and he's far past that sort of wanting. There's only her and her pink flesh and clear eyes and vibrant Life wrapping around him in more than one place.

For a few seconds he just hangs in that white, quiet space before the pounding in his ears finds him again. Then he's panting against her skin, slick and salty with exertion, willing his heart to slow. Another moment passes, and he turns to place a delicate kiss on her neck, just below her ear.

Sweeney doesn't know what the fuck that was, except needed and craved and Them.