The slower pace makes her whimper and Carolyn stretches to grab at the curve of his ass, fingers digging into hard muscle. Before it was too hard, too fast, and now it's too slow, not enough. She's damp with sweat, yes, verging on slick, and she can't get a good grip. Her other hand is still pinned and she wants him to move faster, needs to find release, but it all still feels so far off. No longer quite so swamped with memories, Carolyn can only focus on his bulk, on the weight of him between her thighs. She whispers his name again, forcing her eyes open in an attempt to meet his gaze, even anyone could ever really meet his eyes the way you'd meet anyone else's. They were unreadable, even when he had the goggles off, impenetrable.