His fingers keep working her, the pace of his touch much quicker than the one of his hips, which he keeps somewhat in tandem with his breathing, trying his best to tame the beating of his heart. He lets out soft little hums, quiet sounds spilled into her hair that don't nearly match the loud moans his touches get from her.

The hand on her breast brushes over her nipple, then he moves it away, reaching behind her neck and brushing the strands of her hair over her other shoulder so he can suck and kiss along her neck, his hips and hand both not ever slowing down or losing their rhythm.