Andrey's hips moved in a steady, deep rhythm, the van's seats creaking softly beneath them. But the cramped space of the front seat made every motion feel confined, limiting the depth and angle of their connection. He let out a low, frustrated breath and stilled his movements.
"Wait," he murmured against her neck. "This position is too cramped."
Morgana's breath was warm against his ear, her voice a husky whisper. "Then tell me what you want, Master."
Andrey pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his hands sliding to her waist. "Move to the back. I want you on top of me."
A slow, knowing smile curved Morgana's lips. She rose gracefully, her body sliding off his lap with a deliberate, teasing slowness that made his breath catch. She moved into the back of the van, settling onto the wide bench seat, her red eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Andrey followed. He sat down, his back resting against the seat, and looked up at her. "Come here."
