Mike is holding Yana tight. Very tight. She has delicate skin, too little flesh, will bruise after this. Tomorrow there will be shadows of his touch beneath her skin. Her head is thrown back and she is laughing. The laughing began several minutes ago. She started and now she cannot stop. He cannot stop. He is trying to stop her. His fear is that she is laughing at him. Her fear is that she is not. He must stop her. Increases the pressure from hand to arm, finger to skin. Kisses to shut up the cackling mouth, his front teeth catch against hers, swift crack of perfect enamel, snarl on her upper lip.