She pulls off with almost a kiss, suddenly shivering as he rolls away, the air no longer warm between the both of them. It's easy to wonder what she would be seeing if only she'd turned on the light, but somehow the rest of the senses make up for it — the stagger of his breath and the fevered heat of his skin, finally warm. He gropes at her chest, and she lets out a breath, licking at her lower lip at the control of it.

Of his hands, tugging her forward and turning the both of them, until she sits on top and sees exhaustion in his expression.

Leaning forward, Faye lets her palms rub against the length of his chest, smoothing over shoulders and fingers stroking down the veins of his arms until she reaches his wrists. They're not quite even in width. Carefully lowering her weight until she sits on his thighs, Faye pulls his hands up, palm to her chest and fingers pushed up to the fastening of her shirt. "You can," she counters, catching onto the unfinished end of his sentence. Letting go of his hands, Faye sets herself to removing his shirt, nudging the fabric down over either of his shoulders.