[ He doesn't pick up the pace, doesn't rush, just keeps on moving inside of you as if each roll of his hips might take him deeper and deeper into your skin. When he hears the change in the pitch of your voice, he ghosts kisses over your mouth, his eyes fixed on your face; one hand skimming the length of your torso, the other gripping you tight in his fingers.
His breaths are shorter, the room feels smaller and you are the only thing that matters. ]
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His breaths are shorter, the room feels smaller and you are the only thing that matters. ]