Maeve laughs, surprised when he lifts her, and she wraps her arms around Steve’s shoulders. She’s relaxed, sated, tired, but in a really good way. She doesn’t want to sleep, not yet, but she’s content with being gentle and a little lazy. At least for a moment or two.

Once she’s on the bed, Maeve divests herself of the rest of her clothes, tights tossed aside, because now that they have some privacy, she doesn’t want to worry about trying to get hands inside fabric.

“Go slow,” she answers when Steve asks if she’s too sensitive.