While he doesn't need the help, Faye finds her hands grabbing at the straps, pushing them off Dean's shoulders as quickly as she can with an edge of desperation on her breath. It's the only way she can keep from thinking too much, preventing her from lingering on the spot, from roots taking hold, even as something starts to stir inside her chest. Every time she grows close to someone, it ends up just being a matter of time until they leave, but they've already fallen too far now, and all Faye can do is relish his hands running over her thighs, the way that her weight settles easily against him, the way she can feel his breath rise against her own and know that, for the moment, everything they do is in tandem.

Her gaze rises towards the ceiling of the bathysphere as his lips press against her breast, tongue hot against her skin. Faye honestly can't remember the last time a man paid close attention to her needs, and all she can feel now is overwhelmed, surprised, fingers desperately weaving through his hair as her breath hitches. "You'd better believe it," she breathes, eyes dark when they open again, clouded with want. "It won't be pretty if you stop now."

Legs wrapped tightly around his waist, Faye slips her feet out of her boots, each landing on the floor of the submarine with a hollow thud, before she nudges a heel against the small of Dean's back, insistent, rolling her hips with the movement.