It was obvious he was skilled, and that he knew how to touch her. Lisa felt powerless under his strong hands, moaning almost brazenly at every caress, but Isaac wasn't holding back his own desire either, and she liked that. It seemed so much less calculated than his blatant flirting, and she loved that her body and movements seemed to have just as much of an effect on him as his did on her.
Their movements were hurried, anxious for satisfaction, and then suddenly Isaac lifted her like she was nothing, and she sighed contentedly at the feel of him as their bodies slid together. It hadn't just been too long--it had been far too long. If she'd known this was awaiting her, she might have gone looking for him at the pub after all. And if the rhythm of their bodies hadn't been enough, his hands alone could have done her in. Things had initially been almost frenzied, but now the pace slowed and was somehow gentler and more sensual. His hands themselves were slightly rough, but his touches were anything but, and she wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes and letting herself get lost in the sensations.
Lisa was so concentrated on those hands running over her wet skin, on the feel of his lips on hers, that she didn't notice how tightly wound she'd become until she was close to falling over the edge. Her breathing was already ragged, and when the wave of pleasure finally hit her, she cried out. Not loudly, but enough that she buried her face against his shoulder, pressing her lips to his neck until it had passed. She felt momentarily weak, almost vulnerable, but those hands were still there, and it was easy to let him support her and just get caught up in the feel of him again.