The room was dim, soaked in the amber glow of the city lights outside, casting golden curves across her bare skin. Her leg was still draped over mine, her breath soft, even-but her fingers hadn't stopped tracing idle circles on my chest.
I glanced down.
She was watching me with that same quiet fire in her eyes. Curious. Mischievous. And still hungry.
I smiled. “Round two?”
She bit her lip. “Only if you promise to go slower this time.”
I rolled toward her, trailing my fingers along her side until I reached her hips. “I can do slow.”
She leaned in, kissed my jaw, then whispered, “Prove it.”
I slid my hand between her thighs, and she opened for me like a secret-already warm, already wet. My fingers moved in soft, deliberate circles as I kissed her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. Her body arched into me, every touch sparking deeper desire.
“I love how responsive you are,” I murmured.
“I love how you touch me,” she breathed.
I kissed lower, teasing her breasts with my tongue, slow swirls around her nipples until they peaked under my mouth. She moaned and pulled me closer, nails dragging lightly down my back.
Then she flipped us.
Suddenly I was on my back, and she was above me, straddling my hips. Her hair tumbled around her face, lips parted, her body glowing in the low light. She looked like sin and poetry all at once.
She reached down, wrapped her hand around me, stroking me slowly-just enough pressure to make me groan.
“You like watching?” she asked, voice low.
“Love it.”
She guided me to her entrance, then sank down inch by inch, eyes never leaving mine. She gasped when I filled her, and I reached for her hips, but she caught my hands.
“No,” she whispered, “just watch.”
She rode me slowly, deliberately-like she wanted to memorize every sensation. Her hands pressed against my chest, her pace unhurried, her moans growing deeper with every roll of her hips. She was in complete control, and I was completely hers.
I could barely breathe.
The way she moved-fluid and sensual-drew every nerve in my body to the edge. I reached up, brushed her hair back, then cupped her cheek.
“You're incredible,” I said.
She leaned down and kissed me-long, deep, desperate. “I want to feel all of you.”
I flipped us again, still inside her, and started to move-slow strokes at first, then deeper, harder. Her head fell back, a moan slipping from her lips as her body met mine in perfect rhythm.
We didn't rush it.
Every thrust was a conversation. Every kiss, a promise.
Her legs wrapped tighter around me, her breaths turned to whimpers, her eyes fluttered shut.
“I'm so close,” she whispered.
“Let go,” I said against her lips. “I've got you.”
She cried out, her body tightening around mine as she came, shaking beneath me—and I followed, burying myself deeper, letting the wave crash over us together.
After, we lay tangled in sweat and whispers, her head resting on my chest, our fingers still intertwined.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped.
Inside, everything felt brand new.