The kiss is messy and passionate, the kind of thing that has no forethought or planning. It is just another physical expression, another way to be that much closer to her. He feels the life in her as her body presses against his, and he revels in it. Perhaps she too can feel how alive he feels in the beat of his heart and the movement of his body against hers. It is more alive than he has felt in, well, in ever. He is happy.
His motions below begin to grow more erratic. Slowly, bit by bit, the control of a man who values control above all else begins to unravel. He keeps up a rhythm, but he has slid his hands downward again and he his thrusting up and pushing her body over him with increasing intensity and speed. So far, he has been telling himself that he will release after she does, that he will put the needs of this woman that he and he alone now knows as Maeve above his own, and that is the last thread of control he will hold onto.
"Yes, yes, Maeve, oh Maeve, yes..." His head lolls back from the kiss for just a moment, his teeth catching her lower lip in a soft nip that releases as his head drops further from hers. Then he is up again and kissing along her shoulder with a fever of lust and infatuation.
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His motions below begin to grow more erratic. Slowly, bit by bit, the control of a man who values control above all else begins to unravel. He keeps up a rhythm, but he has slid his hands downward again and he his thrusting up and pushing her body over him with increasing intensity and speed. So far, he has been telling himself that he will release after she does, that he will put the needs of this woman that he and he alone now knows as Maeve above his own, and that is the last thread of control he will hold onto.
"Yes, yes, Maeve, oh Maeve, yes..." His head lolls back from the kiss for just a moment, his teeth catching her lower lip in a soft nip that releases as his head drops further from hers. Then he is up again and kissing along her shoulder with a fever of lust and infatuation.