Ariadne was happy to comply with his request - much more room on the bed, much softer, easier to maneuver.

She had no doubt that she was far from the most experienced lover Eames had ever had, but she knew what felt good, and what felt good right now was her hand braced on his shoulder as she rocked herself against him. She discarded her bra, another irrelevant piece of fabric, nothing more than an obstacle to more contact with skin.

She was hot, her skin flushed and breath ragged.