[ That gets the closest thing yet to a moan from her as her eyes flutter closed in enjoyment of that touch, steady and teasing, dark lashes brushing against flushed cheeks. Her hips press upwards, seeking more of the same, matching him move for move. It seems natural to fall into this familiar rhythm of give and take between then, move matching move, touch matching touch. She tilts her head up just enough to brush skin against skin, the tip of her nose brushing against his before she closes the distance in a slow, leisurely kiss, wanting to taste him again. Especially at the rush of heat his touch had caused, one she hopes to mirror with the way she continues to touch and tease his length. ]
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