[ And there it is. He's going to let the silence stretch out for nearly half a minute now, even if he maintains the hold that he has on you, and keeps his lips close to your ear. What will break the spell that that is sure to cast over you is a shift on his part, and a kiss right on the nape of your neck. ]

That's when I give in and push my fingers into you again, so that I can stretch you out and fuck you. When it's my cock that's sheathing itself into you, I go deep with each stroke, tip touching that spot that makes you quiver and weakens your knees. But I don't kiss you. I'd rather nip at your neck, or leave you things to study on your shoulders in the hours after.

[ And he hasn't moved his hand any closer to where you really, really need him to be. That palm and those fingers of his are linger on your skin, massaging/needing/stroking, always close but not close enough. ]