He's magnificent, and she rises with him, her climax bright and sharp and fleeting by comparison, but no less sweeter for the feel of him coming undone in her arms. He's glorious, and she strives beneath him, wanting to share in that rush, wanting to make it good.

Eventually he gentles against her. Her fingers comb through his hair, and she breathes with him, quietly crooning against his temple, pressing gentle kisses against his hair. She won't move to let him go until he wants to move. Every move sends another slow wave of pleasure burning through her, and she doesn't want it to end just yet.