I love you, Gazelle. [He could feel his own hot breath bounce back from when he spoke against her neck, a moan low on the back of his throat from when she started to tug on his hair. The words echoed over and over in his head, as if telling her wasn't enough, and he needed to mix the sentiment even further through his actions and hope she heard it.
His free hand slides up her side and cups one of her breasts, extra stimulation to add to the fact that with the next push he makes sure he's filled her completely. He falters for a moment, muttering a few curses (he was always bad with words, and usually he managed, but there was really nothing that came to mind for him to even start describing how he felt) before he picks his rhythm back up, listening to make sure he was hitting the right spot so she felt as good as he did.]