"Now," she gasped, and she's kissing him again, wanting him to pick her up, wanting him, right then, right now. She doesn't care, she doesn't care where they are, what's going on, and she's kissing him bruisingly. She knows how it's got to work, somewhere in the logic-y part of her brain which is only barely engaged, and it's the blood lust that's winning but she's actually toeing off one of her boots, pulling herself up by her arms around his neck. She's moving fast - faster than human speed, and even as she's trying to get her other boot off, her mouth finding his neck, that place on his neck that always drives him crazy.