She thought about him day and night - more at night though, if she were completely honest with herself. She thought of running the palms of her hands up and down his smooth, strong arms, soaking up the hard, raw strength of his chest. She loved the feel of him, of all of him. She luxuriated in running her fingers through his dark hair, teasing and tugging gently at the bits on the nape of his neck. He liked that too, if you were to judge by his reaction. His growl in response, as his eyes rolled back behind his eyelids, always prefaced a retaliatory attack on her senses. That was when things would inevitably escalate and envelope them both in that fiery whirlwind called passion.
He loved her thoroughly, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. True, he didn't always go in order from top to bottom or vice-versa, but he never left a single square inch of her body ignored. What might start out as a soothing foot or neck massage would turn into a caress, to light kisses dropped all over her shoulders, neck and upper back. He would pull her hair back gently and whisper love words to her as he kissed even her ears. He would tell her how beautiful he found her, how much she pleased him, how lucky he was to have such a beautiful woman in his arms. Their kiss was unhurried, lingering and savoring every sensation, taste and reaction. Her arms would wrap around his neck, his around her waist, as the kiss deepened. That one small tug on his hair was all it ever took to take things farther. Clothes would go flying in every direction in their desperate pursuit of intimacy. His hands would slide down over her hips, then around to cup her smooth buttocks in each of his strong hands. He would lift her onto his lap, having her straddle him. His hands would then move instead to her breasts - so perfect they were, filling his hands, and so warm and exquisitely soft. She made sure to keep his mouth occupied with hers until he could no longer stand it. He couldn't resist those nipples of hers, the rosey pink seemed to call out for his attention, straining against his fingers. He ducked his head down and obligingly captured one in his mouth. Such sweetness! She would arch in his arms, instinctively giving him even better access to her chest. He would nuzzle the sweet valley between her two breasts, bestowing a kiss or two there before turning his attention to her other breast.
By this point, she would already be writhing in his arms, eager for what was ahead for them. Lightly spreading his kisses down her belly, nipping and licking as he went, he made his way down to her woman's flesh. His hands went ahead of him, preparing the way. Before his mouth ever even arrived, his fingers were stirring her into a frenzy. And she was ready, so hot and wet, just for him. His sex swelled even more at the feel of her tightness, the muscles squeezing around his fingers. He dropped his head and laid the lightest, sweetest kiss on her pink flesh, and she shuddered with that experience alone.
She would scream for him before they were done.
He set himself to his task more diligently at that point, anchoring her down with one arm while he explored her depths with his other hand. His mouth embraced her; his tongue stroked her and caressed her. She was moaning and whimpering in her pleasure thus far. So close... He couldn't wait any longer, his sex was so painfully swollen. He sat up on his knees, kneeling between her thighs as he lifted her hips and thrust deep into her with one swift stroke. He was motionless for a moment, reveling in the tight heat that surrounded him. He was so deep inside her, he could swear he could feel her womb. It stirred him back into motion. He took his thrusts slowly and deliberately, withdrawing almost entirely before pumping back into her. Her moans and whimpers had changed to cries of impatience, as she teetered on the edge of ecstasy. Her hands stroked wildly up and down his back, his buttocks, digging into his shoulders, urging him on.
And on he would go, deeper and more forcefully each time. Her fingernails scored the skin on his back as she clung to him. The bed would rock wildly, knocking against the wall, undoubtedly ruining the paint. Neither of them would have cared, even if they had noticed. As he took her farther and farther, her cries grew louder and louder. He kissed her once again, expressing every ounce of the passion he was feeling through that kiss. She moaned loudly even through the kiss, and he released her mouth in time to hear her scream his name as she climaxed. She felt herself, her entire perception of reality, shatter as the onslaught of pleasure took her breath away. He watched her face, watched her eyes widen and glaze over before rolling back behind her eyelids. Only when her screams began to die down would he take his own release, throwing his head back and roaring with her and with the power of it.
He would then collapse over her, as they both struggled to catch their breath and ease their wildly beating hearts. Making love with him was invigorating, and she never wanted to let him go. She loved the way he loved her.
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