It is, Elsa has to admit, a touch ludicrous. Her leg is broken. They're going to have a devil of a time working around that, for one. But they're good at figuring things out, and Jessica's hands are so close to touching her properly that her breasts ache with wanting it. There's no hope for stopping now, no desire to do anything but keep on. They'll sort it out as they go. They've always managed well on the fly.

As soon as she can, the buttons undone, she runs her hands over smooth, bare skin, as eager to touch as to be touched. Fingertips grazing the edge of her bra, she whines faintly into the kiss. More.