He was getting a rug burn on his ass.
That was the only thing Ed was really aware of –Winry was hot and wet and god help him yielding, and all he could do was tighten his grasp on her hips as he tried frantically to thrust up into her. She had him restrained, however: both of her hands were braced against his chest, and the grin on her face was almost feral. He wasn't going anywhere.
It hadn't been like this, in the beginning. When they'd taken those first awkward steps into physical intimacy, he'd been slow, sweet, and, most of all, cautious. He'd tried to court her.
Then one night when she was blowing him he'd yanked her hair roughly, by reflex.
Winry had bitten him in response.
Things hadn't been the same since then. They'd become more comfortable. It was a return to their old dynamic, each fighting the other for dominance, as familiar as an easily recalled argument over his height.
She'd pushed him against her dresser before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her level. He'd picked her up, the pressure of her hips against his causing his cock to harden almost painfully, and dropped her unceremoniously on the bed before throwing himself over her, fully prepared to wrap her legs around his waist and fuck her until she begged.
Winry had gone along with that plan as far as hooking one leg around his, which was when she'd forced her weight up over his and rolled them both to the floor, taking advantage of his momentary daze to press him inside of her, sinking all the way to the hilt.
She was going too slow though, pausing at the bottom of each stroke to grind herself against him, and with a growl Ed reached, cupped her face, cupped her breasts, then grasped her wrists and broke her stance, causing her to pitch forward.
As easy as that, he was back on top. He drove into her, and her initial protests – her hands pushing fruitlessly at his chest as she tried to wriggle away again – were easily replaced by drowning moans and nails raking down his back.
Pushed to this sort of frenzy, there was no surprise that they both lacked self-control. He pinned her arms to the floor, she arched her back, and came. He followed, biting her breast hard enough to leave a mark, and for a moment the two of them could only lay on the floor next to each other, their ragged breathing the only sound in the room.
He glanced at her, and she grinned and reached out, brushing sweaty bangs from his eyes.
It didn't matter who was on top, because they always ended up side by side anyway.