Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows in nathan drake and elena. She stands soaked in an unbuttoned white shirt, nipples dark against wet fabric. In nathan drake and elena, the shirt drops, and rain-cold skin meets warm palms. She backs against the glass, city lights strobing across her body while her hand disappears between her thighs for nathan drake and elena. Every thrust of her fingers fogs the window anew. Thunder rolls just as her knees buckle in nathan drake and elena; lightning flashes on her open mouth mid-orgasm. When the storm quiets, the only sound in nathan drake and elena is water dripping from her hair and the soft click of her satisfied sigh against the pane.