“Do what you like,” in arch murmur, the sort of thing that sounds trite at first and then slightly terrifying when it becomes apparent how much she means it, how exceptionally reckless she can be and has been in the past.

Indeed, perhaps it's wise to marry her just for safekeeping.

Kept in place for the time being by his hands - her thighs spread easy and strain under his grip, hips that would lift to him prevented and her back arching instead, one hand pulling taut in his hair and the other scrambling for purchase in the blanket, the moss - thank the Maker they're so far from being overheard by anyone but the elk, because he needn't rely only on shivers when she is so vocal. The way she reacts to his touch - hands mouth tongue - is nothing if not unabashed.

It's not as if he'd been unaware she's not a subtle woman.