In that moment, the insanity of everything that had led them to being here, led them to being able to do this, was forgotten. Every thought about it silenced by the anticipation of what was to come and by the pleasure his lips on her skin, his hand on her breast, gave her. Jemma forgot all about the rest of the world, zeroing in on him and then. It felt right, and good, natural like they'd known each other much longer than they had, had feelings much deeper than she was sure they did. It was the wedding night she'd always imagined she would have.

Her head tilted slightly as his lips moved down against her neck, offering more to him, a soft gasp escaping her as his fingers grasped her hair. Not a sound meant to push him away in the least, but rather one that expressed pleasure and appreciation, both of that and his newly discovered enthusiasm in fondling her. Her camisole felt even tighter than it had to begin with, and her nipple stood hard against his palm.

Arousal made her bold, sent her into actions she wouldn't have otherwise even considered. She didn't want to wait, it seemed clear enough that neither did he, and so Jemma was determined to give them both what they wanted. She wriggled a little to adjust her position, and quickly just moved so she could straddle his lap, pulling their bodies closer together, pressing against him with the same eagerness she'd approached everything else so far. There was no trace of hesitation, or anything more than affection and lust, as she dragged her hands across his skin, unable to stop touching and unable to settle them in any one place.