The air in the room is thick, charged with the weight of the words we just traded. He moves with a steady, grounding power, pulling back just enough to make me ache before sliding home again. I am a moaning mess beneath him, my fingers digging into the muscles of his back, trying to find an anchor in the storm he's creating.
"Sphe..." I breathe his name, but it breaks apart against his lips.
Our eyes are still locked a silent, fierce interrogation of the soul. He isn't just touching me; he is awakening every hidden corner, every dormant nerve, until I feel like I am glowing from the inside out. My hands move to his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy thrum of his heart against my palms, a mirror to my own.
