“Don’t let go yet,” she whispered back. “Not just yet. Tomorrow is soon enough. Not tonight, after all, not tonight.” She kissed him again, trying to taste the words in his mouth and take them away with her.
“Never, if I had my way,” he whispered sadly, parting his lips eagerly and allowing her control of the kiss, memorising her face, her body and the way she felt in his arms, as if fearful that his memories would be all he had to remember her by.
She pulled at his tunic and shirt, trying to find a way to keep kissing him and still get his clothes off.