no subject

[ It's so easy to let himself sink further into those sheets, even as he leaves himself in your care. You kiss him and his lips part easy to receive your; his head falls back against the bed and he turns his face to one side to allow you better access to his neck. Your lips on his skin is like a balm and a brand all at once. He can't quite reconcile the soft and helpless sounds that leave him, but he doesn't fight it or try to hide.

It also doesn't escape his notice how hot his skin still feels, how the areas that you touched with the oil still seem to hum with need. You're still buried inside of him and it is all he can do to resist the urge to shift his hips so that he can draw you all the more inside. That is the unintentional press around you, and if the look in his eyes is a little unfocused, it's wholly, entirely, completely your fault. ]