She winces at the crash of the vase, sparing a glance for it, a pang for its destroyed beauty. Her body tightens as his face comes into her hair, the eager rush of breath moving through the pale strands. The tongue on her ear makes her shiver and she reaches into his pants for his heated flesh, stroking him until he moves to lift her.
Victoire wraps her legs around his waist, her arms going behind his neck, accustomed as she is to this position she knows just how to tip her hips so that she can rub her wetness over him, an inviting tease and a promise of what lies beyond her entrance.
She shakes her head faintly, letting her hair fall behind her shoulders. "Non. Do not hold back from me. I wish to hear what you want and need, what you like, what you want more of, yes?" She rocks against him again, keep him from entering her quite yet.