The moment Graham was on him again, Ripley was moving against him, seeking that friction he had found earlier and his own moans got lost in the kiss, his fingernails digging slightly into skin.

He whimpered, and the noise made him flush with embarrassment as the thought of positions finally crossed his mind.

He was having a hard time of coming up with reasons why it would be a bad idea, when all he could think about was needing more, faster, closer, now.

So he spread his legs a little more until Graham fit better against his body and lost himself into the kiss.

Who needed to breathe anyway?