She feels like every cell of her body is vibrating against his - here, and elsewhere, on some other plane, in some other life. She knows that the muscles underneath her lips are trembling, quivering with the unbearable fear of you're doing it wrong, you don't - shh, won't you be quiet? as one hand finds the bone at his hip, clutches on with desperation and fear of collapsing to the ground -

The other rises and sails across the seas of his body, charting the unknown territory of his back, the rise and fall of his mountainous shoulder blades, the valley between. Even in those last final moments, she'd clutched at the fabric at his neck and had never once dared to explore what lie beneath - though the thought had crossed her mind as the light grew closer, tangled and lost in the thousands of memories thoughts dreams futures she'd imagined.

Her hand seeks out the hair at the back of his head, endless fields like dark wheat she wants nothing more than to run between, feel in the webbing of her fingers, explore and know and memorize - a quiet, breath of a whispered moan leaping from the cavern of her mouth to his at the exploration of her body -

Willing, open, ready, receiving.