As they settle into a rhythm, his other hand slides along her side, caressing the dip of her slim waist, following the movement of her hips. He would trace every curve of her body if he could right now, committing every slope and swell to memory, like the press of her breasts against his bare chest, the tension of her firm thighs on either side of him.

His teeth lightly rake her lower lip as their mouths briefly part, only so that he can tilt his head the other way, and he resumes the kiss, his tongue twining with hers in a serpentine dance.