There was that exquisite ache again, coiling deep inside, swelling like a tide, ready to burst a dam wide open. He returned her kiss with equal passion, not only wanting her but needing her, like a drug he couldn't get enough of. She was so close he could feel the heat of passion radiating off her, the aching throb of desire deep in his loins. He was trying so hard to be patient, to restrain himself, keep himself in check until she was ready for him. His fingers swept through her hair as his lips met hers, hungry for her kisses, impatient to taste her lips again and again.
She had already teased him in one way; this was teasing of a different sort, a shared torment that promised a more than adequate reward as she drew him up to her, finding a new position to show him, challenging the conservatism of his innocence as she sat upright, holding him close. Her lips were greedy, taking as much as he could give her, giving back the same, each exchange of breath and touch spiking that indefinable something deep inside to greater heights, fanning the flames inexorably. Her hands slipped down between them, and there was a moment of agonising ecstasy as she guided him into her, settling close and quite suddenly ... not moving. The stillness of her body was challenged by the heady deepening of her kisses as she moaned, savoring that first intrusion with as much eagerness as she did the anticipation of what was to come.
Though inexperienced, he was a quick learner, and he followed her lead, not as awkward as before, moving to meet her change in position, almost as if it were a game of chess, matching every subtle movement with one of his own. His breath caught in his throat as she guided him to her, groaning when he found himself suddenly sheathed inside her exquisite warmth. For a moment, neither moved, savoring the moment as if they could make it last forever, joined together in the most sacred way, a union that for him transcended the physical, becoming an almost spiritual joining. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, even as he returned her kisses, their hearts beating as one, their bodies joined. Only for a moment, and then his hands moved over her, touching her, memorizing her, each soft hill and valley of her flesh, pulling her closer, deeper, until he could hardly wait any longer.
As he followed her lead, so she followed his, her hands only moving when his did, smoothing down over his back, up into his hair, along the line of his arms, touching everywhere she could reach as still they traded kisses, as still they remained locked together as intimately as it was possible to be. One hand left him to flip her hair back off her face, her eyes opening as her lips left his, wanting to see the wash of loving desire and rousing abandon as it rose over him. As gently, slowly, with gradual tenderness, she began to rock against him, sensitive to the slightest motion, flushing anew as her own groans joined his, as her arms wrapped about his neck, holding him close to her. "So good, baby," she whispered to him, breathless before the rise for the first time she recalled. "You always feel ... God ... incredible ..."
He moaned against her lips as she touched him, each touch, however brief, building the fire of passion inside them both, each kiss an intimate and wordless exchange of the love they were both feelings for each other. He closed his eyes for a moment to savor each sensation, in wondrous awe of the power and depth of feeling such a union elicited, understanding once again why it was this one sacred act between a man and a woman was something so special, so honored, so desired. Everything he was feeling was there to see on his face, and when he opened his eyes to her again, he made no effort to hide the love he was feeling, coupled with desire. He held her as close as he could as she rocked her body against his, restraining himself through an act of sheer will long enough that she could use him however she wanted, however she needed. He kissed her again, softly, gently in response to her breathless words of pleasure, unable to find the right words to respond, letting her speak for them both.
She could see in his eyes, beneath the love that took her breath away, the strain in him to hold himself still, to simply be as she moved against him, and something in her rebelled. She didn't want to use him; she wanted to be with him. Her grasp on him softened, fingertips tracing almost tentative patterns over his shoulders, up to his jaw as she answered his gentle kisses with her own. "Don't hold back," was breathed against his lips in a prayer to match the adoration in her dark eyes as she gazed on him, astounded by how expressive his silence could be. "With me, love, please ..."
He looked back at her with uncertain eyes, unsure what she wanted from him. If he let himself go the way she seemed to want, he was afraid he'd lose control and would hurt her. It went without saying that he was bigger and stronger than her and to say that he didn't tire nearly as quickly as an ordinary man was putting it mildly. "Just do what you want, Lucy," he replied, his lips parting from hers momentarily to whisper back, his voice thick with desire. "I'm here, I'm with you, I'm ready," he told her, his arms looping around her hips, fingers tentatively sliding downward to pull her up against him, as close as physically possible. Buried deeply inside her, he was barely holding on, barely holding back, on the crest of sweet surrender.
But it was that assertiveness she wanted, not for him to let go entirely, just that he should take an active part. The pressure of his arms about her, drawing her closer, put just the right amount of pressure, just the right touch of friction between them, and she cried out in delight, unable to keep the slow seduction of her own rhythm any longer. The tempo suddenly changed, harder, faster, the grasp of her fingers against his skin tighter as she found herself riding her gentle giant of a lover exactly as he'd asked her to, close, so close ... and there. The clench and shudder of her body was a heady mix of power and vulnerability, his name ever on her lips between gasping moans that declared that moment of incomparable bliss to the uncaring walls that held them in.
For the third time in so many hours, he found himself in ecstasy and wondering if he was just dreaming because this couldn't possibly be real, could it? It was too unbelievable, too awesome, too amazing. She was too beautiful and he could hardly believe that she was his. He whispered her name again and again as his release coincided with hers, shuddering as it broke free, exploding with such force that he cried out her name, not even thinking that anyone might hear them.
The sound of her name leaving his lips with more abandon than she'd heard from him before thrilled her to the bone, urging her to keep moving, keep rocking over him, riding the wave until every last drop had been milked from them both. And even then, she hovered on the edge, her body threatening to begin that rise all over again with hardly a break to recover. Not quite motionless, still gently stoking the fire between them, she lifted her head from his shoulder, curling her hands to his jaw to ghost soft, barely there kisses to his lips as her breath mingled with his, whispering all the love in her heart between each almost touch.