She shoves and he stumbles, laughing as his back hits the wall. This is his favorite, no plan and no undercurrent of complications or remorse. Just enjoying each other in whatever form that takes, teasing and pushing at each other playfully and in Amelia's case stroking until he's full hard in her hand.

He shifts, pressing into her hand even as she moves it along his length, so he can wind his hands in her hair and make her look at him. It's not harsh, nothing forced about it and she can pull away easily if desired, but he wants to see that wicked grin as she teases him to the brink. Wants to taste it on his tongue.

So he kisses her, fingers tangled in dark strands, and revels in the joy of them.