This is what she wanted from the beginning, wasn't it? It feels inevitable in that moment, enough so that Frank wonders why he fought this. His back hits the mattress with a soft thump, seemingly happy enough with this positioning to allow her to take charge. Whether or not Karen knows it, this is really the only way he knows how to be with a woman, by submitting to her will. And Karen's had eroded his, though they're both stubborn as an alleycat. Maybe a part of him even feels like she's won, but this is hardly the loser's seat. His gaze rakes over her torso as she flings her shirt away, big hands once more tracing up her sides, except this time with minimal hesitation. The near-reverence shining in his gaze should make up the difference anyway as he tips his head back to meet her eyes and accepts the biting kiss with a groan.

Something shifts then, like an internal mechanism locking into place. He honestly thinks it's because this has been a long time in coming, that everything feels so amplified. Between that and not having his senses for seven days, of course he would be overwhelmed. He kisses back until there's no air left in his lungs, but the tug to his lip hurts and not in a nice way. His physical interest begins to wane some, even though he very much still wants this -- still wants her. "Karen..." he starts, but it stalls there because he isn't sure what's happening. Everywhere they're touching suddenly feels uncomfortable and hot and his hands yank away from her body as if he's just been burnt. He holds up his palms to look, but nothing seems amiss. His heart is beating in triple time until he lets out a pained cry suddenly and tries to scramble out from under her. Every single inch of his skin is inflamed, and what felt amazing only a second ago now feels like the most painful torment he's ever been subjected to.