shake, shake, shake and make it rain

With one final shudder he melted fully into Ballad's form. The beach seemed to be silent without the fruit of their passion to fill it, but Jupiter didn't mind. He had been mollified, his dark thoughts momentarily stifled, and that was all he could ask of a night like this. It was tempting to stay there with her; she fit so perfectly beneath him that with the fire at his back he could have lay in her warmth for the rest of the night. Instead after a moment taken to collect himself, he rose just long enough to untangle her legs from his and then rolled over into the sand beside her. Unless she was done with him now, which wouldn't offend him in the slightest, he'd seek to wrap loosely around her in a crescent shape laying half on his back and half on his side.

He became aware of the chilly air as it settled over his upturned chest and belly. He was too contented to mind it much, but there, somewhere on the edges of his mind, lurked an inescapable dissatisfaction that had nothing to do with Ballad and everything to do his own inner struggle. For now it played little more than a background threat to his currently mellow mood, but like the chill, eventually it would rise and become impossible to not notice.

For now, as his breath left him in steady, steamy puffs, he would say nothing and let her dictate what happened next. He was satisfied enough to stay awhile, but not so done as to call it a night. She had no obligation to stay and he wasn't operating under the assumption that this was anything more than them taking advantage of the atmosphere. If she wished to leave him for fresh bodies then he would recover on his lonesome and take up the prowl none the worse for wear. But, if she wished to lay with him awhile and take advantage of his mellow state, he certainly wouldn't disdain her company and could find further distraction in a conversation.