Letting him take the lead, as much as it frustrated her to do so, had clearly been the right move. Her body responded to his touch in ways she hadn't expected from such light caresses. She was used to such roughness and speed. Part of her wanted to roll him onto his back and show him just what his vessel...no his body was capable of feeling. She could have done things to him that would have let him begging for more, and she'd be only to happy to give him exactly what he wanted. Instead, she tried to stay still and let him discover her for himself. Tried being the operative word. Her back arched involuntarily as he touched her, desperate to be closer to him, but never quite succeeding. No matter how tightly she pressed herself to him, it wasn't close enough. The smallest gaps between them felt like chasms. Her body trembled under his touch, but not out of weakness. Out of sheer desire. She'd waited a very long time for him to touch her like this.
Taking the deepening of his kiss and the movement of his hand as proof of his desire, she abandoned timidity and ran her hand beneath his shirt, first across the small of his back, feeling the smooth skin there and enjoying the subtle movement of his muscles. Slowly, she ran her hand upwards, his shirt dragging slightly upwards with the movement. She was not exactly gentle, but she was not rough. She was firm and insistent in the way she touched him.
The feeling of his skin under her fingers, of his hand moving across her body, of his lips on hers, his tongue against her own, it was quickly becoming too much. A slight, barely controlled gasp of excitement escaped her lips. He elicited responses from her that she had never experienced before. She'd had sex plenty of times. Hundreds, most likely, over her existence. But this? She'd never felt quite so alive underneath another person's touch. She shifted her body again, subtly, so that she lay on her back, guiding him with gentle touches and letting her other hand also slide beneath his shirt. She couldn't get enough of touching him. If she lived another thousand years, she'd want to spend every second of it touching him.