Savannah’s hands were now both on his, as he stroked and curved his fingers over each delicate, nearly fragile seeming curve. As he rolled the nipple of one breast between two fingers and his other hand slid ever closer to the juncture of her thighs.
He had just began a slow stroke across the wetness there, against the flushed flesh and hard button of nerves, matching the pace of each fluid rock into her, when that tiny shudder began in her body. Instead of speeding up, his pace slowed to a nearly molasses pace, his hips moving to meet hers with a sluggedly slow beat of heavy blood. Enhancing her pleasure, while slowing down his own. Intent on dragging this out a little longer, at least on his part. His fingers swept over her, while Thomas’s mouth opened again against her throat.