She lets out a hard breath with each thrust, voice going from strained and tense to warm, smoke in a shot glass, as he adjusts his pace.

She squeezes his hand.

Her eyes roll back, and she concentrates every other sense on him. The taste of him, the feel of his mouth and tongue, the way he smells (she thinks about catching him just out of the shower, just after a shave), each pleasured sound and breath egging her on.

She wraps her free arm around him, chest chafing against his, yearning to feel every inch of him, hot and slick and strong.