[ What you see when you seek his gaze out in that mirror is the way he's already looking at you -- unblinking and totally focused for what might feel like a long time as he presses tender kisses along the side of your neck.
When he does blink, the look in his gaze turns softer, more tender, and he offers you a smile before he turns his face completely away from the reflection and into your skin. The scent of you is intoxicating, it makes him want even more -- and he can still remember the feel and shape of you in his mouth. Given the way you've leaned back against him, you'll no doubt be able to feel how hard he's grown beneath the the fabric of his pants. ]
Love you, [ he murmurs that by the shell of your ear, even as the hand whose fingers he threaded through with your own lets go to shift lower down towards your lap.
You fit -- for lack of a better way to put it -- so perfectly in his grip that he has to will himself to slow things down; there is no rush after all. You're still full between the cradle of his fingers, so he knows that it won't take much to get you going again. But he wants to stretch this out, make you writhe in his arms and forget the uncomfortable feelings that come with how Arcadia makes you look. So he takes his time, strokes your cock only up until you tense against him, and then eases you back down, moving his hand away to knead at the inside of your thigh, while he indulges in the feel of your skin and pulse beneath his lips. ]
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When he does blink, the look in his gaze turns softer, more tender, and he offers you a smile before he turns his face completely away from the reflection and into your skin. The scent of you is intoxicating, it makes him want even more -- and he can still remember the feel and shape of you in his mouth. Given the way you've leaned back against him, you'll no doubt be able to feel how hard he's grown beneath the the fabric of his pants. ]
Love you, [ he murmurs that by the shell of your ear, even as the hand whose fingers he threaded through with your own lets go to shift lower down towards your lap.
You fit -- for lack of a better way to put it -- so perfectly in his grip that he has to will himself to slow things down; there is no rush after all. You're still full between the cradle of his fingers, so he knows that it won't take much to get you going again. But he wants to stretch this out, make you writhe in his arms and forget the uncomfortable feelings that come with how Arcadia makes you look. So he takes his time, strokes your cock only up until you tense against him, and then eases you back down, moving his hand away to knead at the inside of your thigh, while he indulges in the feel of your skin and pulse beneath his lips. ]