He might be fighting for control, but not so much that he can't be sure she breaks before him. This has been about her he tells himself even now. About Fry being safe, being here. Riddick usually doesn't lie to himself this much, but this is one time he seems unable to do anything else. His skin is hot, but so is hers, damp with sweat wherever they touch. He slows, he has to, shuddering with each thrust, unable to contain himself any longer.