*takes in one deep, aching breath after another, mesmerized by your reactions—and he drinks in every flutter of your lashes, every slick, heated quiver, because his world is sight and touch and he must know this of you*
*shapes your curves as you ready him and smiles, his touch no longer teasing but gone now to urgency (see what you do to me? and oh, what I would do to you all in one)* *kisses his fingertips and reaches up to trace them down over your face, so delicately (beautiful, beautiful)*