Tasting myself on his lips was so painfully erotic. It mixed in with that rosy smell wafting off his body.
I realized that Marcy liked to take things slow, as even his kisses were paced. He pressed his lips to mine with so much care, so much warmth. My hands found their way behind his neck, softly caressing the curls at the base.
I felt him shiver from the act, a soft moan from him resonating against my lips. I did it again, my fingers moving down his spine and he did it again, more loud, more needy.
His hands moved to rest on the bed on either side of me, balled up into fists as he lost more and more of his control. I felt it in the way his spine arched with every movement my hand made on his back.
Since we'd kissed at the door, I felt so unnaturally cared for. Every sexual experience I'd ever had was usually rough and beastly.
