She knew his name kept tumbling out of her mouth, but she wasn’t aware of how ragged her voice was, of the way she kept gasping in breaths desperately, of the way her hands fisted and flexed. Only the way the heat of his mouth washed over her, the way his touch made the fine hair rise and fall in waves on her skin, the way she danced right on the edge of pleasure and pain — it felt so good. If he hadn’t been holding on to her with fierce, trained strength, she would have been bucking up into his mouth.
Her moans and gasps were like music to the dance he was performing for her, lips and tongue eagerly mapping out in between her legs, inhaling and tasting her, and marveling at the intimacy of it all. This was a situation he’d be sure to repeat, especially as she seemed to be enjoying it so much. He wanted her to fall apart from this first, so that when he finally slid into her body, she’d be relaxed and sated and ready to let him make love to her.
“I want,” she whimpered, “I want … ” She was so close, if she squeezed her eyes shut she could see it, glittering just ahead, but even though he had found — something, that made her moan and twitch almost uncontrollably it still wasn’t quite enough. “Isaac, Isaac please — ” She dug her fingers into his shoulders, into his hair.