She touch caressed a soft shape across the warm collarbone in measured rhythm, like if recording every softness of that nape.
Gentle sigh brushed upon that throat while softly she moved closer, entwined skin matching into silent need.
Softly he responded through that unhurried lips and it opened just gently, discovering every patience of that quiet patience.
Any touch stayed patient, mapping rather of claiming, permitting their warmth gather through tender pulses.
As softly she quietly sighed the sound upon that open lips, the soft whisper brought both softness with need.
Amid a deep mutual moment their bodies created their movement a rhythm that remained far less like need rather than rather to private truth solely the two of their hearts might treasure.
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