The moment that he has been striving for happens. He almost can't focus on looking up at her through the frame of her hair and the stars in the sky above her. Almost. But he knows that this is the most beautiful sight he has ever seen and will likely ever see. He watches her face as the waves of her pleasure wash over it before she crumples against him, holding on tightly. He holds her to him in turn, whispering his affections of her in her ear as he nibbles at it.

And then his control is swept out from under him by her own loss of it. He gasps, his eyes going wide. At first, it is hard, but in a very sweet way. There is some reptilian part of his brain that just doesn't want to let go, that doesn't want to give up control to anybody, not even the woman that he is making love to. Perhaps especially not her, because the implications of giving her the keys to that control are far reaching and, on some level, terrifying. That part is overwhelmed, though, by the rest of him and by the sheer force of her own climax which seems to demand that he come with her down that path. His yells are guttural as he shouts her name to the night sky above her head over and over, his climax rocking his body under her as he holds on tightly. His nails leave grooves in her buttocks and his vision actually blanks out for a few seconds (maybe more, he has no concept of time).

And then he is back inside himself, panting, His broken control starts to return to him, and he finds that this woman means so much more to him now than she did even several minutes ago. This is the woman that he lost that precious control for, and that has established a bond of trust that goes deep. And the wonder of it is that she may never know just how deeply that moment affected him.

"Maeve...that was..." There are no words to describe it, but that's okay. He sees that she understands, and that is good enough for him.