"Her hands are pressing into the flesh of his back, and underneath him her body is flexing, moving, seeking, and the room is filling with her little groans. John's mouth is on her throat, now, lips and tongue and teeth teasing the flesh just under her jaw, down by her collarbones. And then he's on to her other ear and the silken neck below it. For a moment she seems to pull herself up against him, and two long, high notes hum through bitten lips. He holds her close, pressing and holding himself still against her while she shudders and pants, then finally calms, her fierce grip on his back going lax, her body softening and sinking beneath him.“Go ahead,” she tells him.He starts to move.“No,” she says. “I want to see you.”He lifts himself so his face hovers a few inches above her, and gives her a strange little smile. He starts moving again. Still slowly, but with a different angle, a different rhythm. Almost on the first stroke her body tenses and her eyes go a little wide, startled.“You okay?” he whispers, and she nods her head. “It doesn't hurt?”She shakes her head, then says, her voice soft, almost kind, “Just intense. Don't worry about me. Just do it the way you like it. I want to see, feel what that is.”His fingers in her hair, his other hand slips down, under her waist, and holding her to him he begins to move, back and thighs and ass flexing. She watches his face as his body gets taut, quivery, and his breathing goes shallow and irregular.“Are you always quiet like this?” she whispers.“No.”“Let me hear you,” she coaxes.He goes still. Breaks eye contact. Breathing heavy.“You being quiet doesn't change anything. You're still fucking me, getting off. So let me hear you.”His eyes come back to hers and there's a still, quiet moment between them. And then be starts, his body working against hers. He tips his forehead until it touches hers, and his serrated panting fills, breath by breath, with a low, feral growl."
Until next time,