He still looks good, just as good as she remembers, her hands smoothing over the musculature of his arms, his chest, his stomach through the fabric of his shirt. Technically, his heart may not be beating anymore, but thanks to Milliways, he's never felt more alive.

She purrs against his mouth. The temptation to give in, to just tear at him, burns stronger in her lower gut, toying with her insides, threatening a loss of control.