he who hesitates is toast

She tips her head this way and that and back as he kisses her shoulder and her throat, trying to give him as much of her skin as he wants access too, shivering at his dedicated attention to the spot at the curve of her neck and shoulder. "You're pretty good at figuring out what I want," she points out, and blinks languid eyelashes at him, her eyes blown dark with desire, only a thin rim of brown around the black of her pupil.

"I want you," she reiterates, and leans up to kiss his smile. "I want slow, until you drive me so crazy I can't take it anymore. I want every touch to prove how much I cherish you."

She runs her hands lightly down along the sweet curve of his back, then over the rise of muscle below his hips. "I want to feel you in me, as close as we can get."