[ And for all his earlier talk, there is nothing for you to hear but the sounds of his breathing, of the kisses he's pressing against your skin, of the rustle of sheets beneath you both as he picks up the pace and the slap of your bodies as you come together. His grip is tightening over your wrists ( he swears, he'll kiss the bruises that he leaves later ), his body bearing down on you because there is nothing and no one else but you in the moment: the scent of sweat, skin and sex as he pushes into you.
The sound of your voice saying his name, pleading in a tongue that he's had to learn -- those are anchors that drag him further into the depth of you. Hold onto him, please, he never wants to stray far from you, because the dark can come to swallow you both and the odds might be stacked against the years he'd gladly lay down at your feet, but he'll be there, right beside you, if you just tell him that you need him.
No, there is no room for tenderness when want and desire are all-consuming. You asked, he will give until the whole of him has emptied into you. ]
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The sound of your voice saying his name, pleading in a tongue that he's had to learn -- those are anchors that drag him further into the depth of you. Hold onto him, please, he never wants to stray far from you, because the dark can come to swallow you both and the odds might be stacked against the years he'd gladly lay down at your feet, but he'll be there, right beside you, if you just tell him that you need him.
No, there is no room for tenderness when want and desire are all-consuming. You asked, he will give until the whole of him has emptied into you. ]