Jyn let out a breath against his mouth that was half-gasp, half-moan when he picked up speed, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. (Of course it didn't — she'd survived such a long time without him — but that was another thing she wasn't thinking about now.) It was good, so good, so sweetly overwhelming, everything sensation and light when, moments later, she came again, tight and trembling around him. Only sheer force of will or instinct or some combination of the two kept her from stilling completely or slumping back. She wanted him to get there too, wanted to see it and be the one to make it happen. Inevitability didn't lessen her determination. Exhaustion slowed her movements, though, each snap of her hips erratic now, her chest heaving against his as she panted for air.