[He has to stop even trying to kiss her, both because of his panting and to hear more of her crying out. He rests his head on his arm so as not to rip the bedsheets with his hair, his mouth positioned near her cheek so he can lavish little kisses on her skin in between labored breaths, whisper how good she's making him feel. It's the first time in forever that he's been thinking about something other than his curse.]
[A passing thought about dragging that lace down her legs and off is dismissed as she gasps his name again and instead he works his fingers further past the material for as much contact as he can give her. His fingertip dips into her just enough to coat it, the slickness hopefully easing his skin's texture as he moves against her, faster.]