The reactions Théadan gave to her changes in position cemented she had made the right choice and Navia was all the more eager for it. His fingers curled against her back, gathering fabric and helping steady her so her hips could continue thrusting down upon his own. She loved hearing him moan her name, and his suggestion that she push him against walls or pull him down onto the floor sent a little shiver down her spine. Of course he wanted more, would want it again, and she knew she was just as lost to her desire to be with him as he. It was the answer of both ways or either ways that allowed her humor to break through the lust briefly and she laughed into the kiss he pressed upon her lips. With him happy with what she had chosen to do, Navia kept her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, enjoying both how Théadan’s mouth took advantage of their proximity and the stability for her to maintain the desperate way her hips rolled to keep his member moving within her.<br/><br/>Despite saying she could not work on making him more vocal after having been interrupted, they both appeared to be having trouble staying quiet. It was indicative of them and as Théadan moaned her name into his neck, she almost teased him for it. But her own short moans were becoming more frequent and had little to muffle them while Théadan’s mouth was hotly sucking at her neck in the most delightful of ways. She tilted her neck back for him, thick hair cascading down her back and brushing over his hand there, her lips parting to release quiet whimpers as the way he was making her feel only heightened. It was all so right. The rush of how they had ended up on the floor, how tightly they gripped and moved together, how they hadn’t bothered to remove their clothing in their haste to be together. And deep down there was also a level of victory for her. She had only been goading Théadan when she’d suggested she could distract him from wanting an embarrassing story from her and with the heat between them, the need, she knew she’d accomplished just that.<br/><br/>Navia could also tell he was moving closer to orgasm, his voice a bit more strained when he spoke her name again, his hot shaft feeling all the thicker and harder than before, and Navia knew she was right there with him. Her body quivered against his, inner walls beginning to clench around the length of him and making it harder to impale herself upon him every time her hips lifted. Just a few more moments of their fervid coupling and they could be that panting heap she had jokingly mentioned once more. Navia tried to rekindle her efforts, arms tightening around her lover to give her hips more purchase. They didn’t need much longer, she knew they were both likely holding back some to let the tension build up just a bit more, and the frustration of it was delectable.<br/><br/>Yet it all came to another abrupt halt with a groan and a word Navia did not want to hear. Pausing in her efforts, hips pushing upon his tightly, Navia first glanced down to see what was wrong before her gaze followed Théadan’s and she realized they weren’t alone. She had not heard anyone come down, she’d been too focused on the pleasures Théadan brought her, but she immediately agreed with his reaction. The only problem was that she did not have the strength to wait like she had before; they were in too deep, too close to those giddy heights they always enjoyed together. Every ounce of her being urged her to keep going. Shaking her head, hoping the cook would not hear them over the sound of his own rummaging, Navia turned back to Théadan. Her arms adjusted so her hands could frame her face, turning his attention away from the interruption. “Shh,” she warned in near silence, “Shh..” Her lips covered his then, mouth heatedly fusing with his own to keep them both quiet. Maybe the man would find whatever he needed and go away. They were deep amongst the crates and he was on the outer edge. It was likely he’d never know.<br/><br/>And what if he did? What if he heard? All it would take was a slip of a moan or the creak of the crates supporting them and the cook would know he was not alone. What would he think? There really were things duchesses probably shouldn’t be caught doing, and having her dress yanked down with her breasts exposed as she rode her princely lover was probably one of them. But Navia knew it didn’t matter. Her hips were already moving again, just with a bit less enthusiasm to keep the sound to a minimum. “I can’t,” she whispered to Théadan so he would know what she was doing, “I won’t...” She needed him too badly, was far too close too release to wait for their new interruption to go away or find them. But the cook did not seem to be in a hurry. The lid of the crate he was focused on slamming shut, he moved down a couple rows to another crate, coming closer to where they were hidden, and whistling along in ignorance. Frustration mounting, unsure what she could do to keep herself quiet when the pressure was so immense that all she wanted was to let go and cry out his name, Navia’s hands pushed into his hair, curling around the locks and anchoring herself to roll her hips upon his harder. She leaned down and pressed her face into Théadan’s neck next, teeth closing around his skin in hopes it would help maintain silence.