Re: Third Class ; Dining [adult]
He let her be as still as she needed to be because he was just as afraid to move as she was. His heart hammered in his chest, a furious, pounding rhythm, one that made him feel light-headed and tight in his chest, but in the best way possible. Her little whimpers, the way she shifted atop him, the soft moans that escaped her lips, it was almost as good as being in her.
The rock of her hips, the way her inner muscles flexed and held tight to him... he let her determine the rhythm, the rock of her hips, giving her something to brace against as he held her hips. It felt good no matter what he did, and he was undemanding of her, letting her take her pleasure and gaining his own from hers.
He swallowed her moans, drawing them into himself, hands rising from her hips to cup her breasts, thumbs running over their tips, murmuring into the kiss, urging her on.