[Her own hands wander just as readily, intent on blindly exploring every inch of him as her body moves in time with his own; despite the pounding of her own heart in her chest, it is strangely effortless, being with him. She drinks down every moan and sigh that escapes against her lips, her pulse quickening with every deep, searching kiss, her hands gliding along his shoulders, down his back, gripping at whatever part of him she can reach as he continues to work in her, all the while that building pressure coiling hotly within her, pleasure now mindless and constant and absolutely perfect.
He chuckles, and she lets out a breathless laugh of her own against his mouth, palming at his ass as her legs squeeze even more tightly about his waist. The bed creaks softly beneath them as he pushes in deeper, harder; her body yields to him easily, and she can feel herself approaching that sinfully sweet precipice once more.]
Just— let go—
[She's barely able to manage even that much of a response; moans have given way to more vocal appreciation of his efforts, a soft cry accompanying the next few thrusts before she bites at her lower lip to stifle herself— just as his control begins to fray, so does hers, and she finds herself keenly aware of the smell of sex and sweat and the raw heat of him.
How long had it been for him, she has to wonder, since he'd been able to lose himself like this? He deserves the opportunity for that and more, and she surges upwards to kiss him again with one hand tangled in his hair, the other braced against his hip as best as she can manage with them both slick with sweat.]
I want to feel you lose yourself...
[Just as much as she wants to be the reason that he does.]
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He chuckles, and she lets out a breathless laugh of her own against his mouth, palming at his ass as her legs squeeze even more tightly about his waist. The bed creaks softly beneath them as he pushes in deeper, harder; her body yields to him easily, and she can feel herself approaching that sinfully sweet precipice once more.]
Just— let go—
[She's barely able to manage even that much of a response; moans have given way to more vocal appreciation of his efforts, a soft cry accompanying the next few thrusts before she bites at her lower lip to stifle herself— just as his control begins to fray, so does hers, and she finds herself keenly aware of the smell of sex and sweat and the raw heat of him.
How long had it been for him, she has to wonder, since he'd been able to lose himself like this? He deserves the opportunity for that and more, and she surges upwards to kiss him again with one hand tangled in his hair, the other braced against his hip as best as she can manage with them both slick with sweat.]
I want to feel you lose yourself...
[Just as much as she wants to be the reason that he does.]