[ He doesn't know how he feels it but he does, that thin thread between them that represents a stronger connection than anything on the physical plane, her pleasure nudging at his awareness until he's attuned to it enough to be able to tell that she's cresting higher and higher and that he's taking her there. Even if he wasn't paying attention to the sounds of her body, the way she rocks beneath him in search of a harder, stronger drive of his fingers, he'd be able to pick up on it from this, something more than anything he's ever felt with anyone else, a transcendent link.
Maybe he'll be able to figure it out later, much later, when he inevitably returns home to live out more of the events that he's destined for, but right now, he's not thinking about anything beyond the confines of this cot, her scent and her skin and her warmth and the way she almost breathes a moan toward the ceiling when he curls his fingers inside her at a certain angle. He'll hold them there, go harder when he feels like he won't be hurting her, give her a more unrelenting thrust without retreating very far, and this time he is trying to seek out that elusive spot she'd asked him to find for her.
He has a feeling he'll know the moment when he discovers it, but he's lifting his eyes to watch her throughout, barely stifled exhales of breath that turn into groans as his lips suck on her clit more firmly, as he swipes his tongue over the ridges of his own knuckles, as he tries to earn every single drop of her that wells up to taste.
And he chuckles a little self-consciously when she says that, the sound vibrating across her; the truth is that he's had time to practice, but he doesn't say that out loud because it'd be a confession tinged with regret, regret that it wasn't her he was only ever able to learn from in terms of figuring out how best to please her now. ]
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Maybe he'll be able to figure it out later, much later, when he inevitably returns home to live out more of the events that he's destined for, but right now, he's not thinking about anything beyond the confines of this cot, her scent and her skin and her warmth and the way she almost breathes a moan toward the ceiling when he curls his fingers inside her at a certain angle. He'll hold them there, go harder when he feels like he won't be hurting her, give her a more unrelenting thrust without retreating very far, and this time he is trying to seek out that elusive spot she'd asked him to find for her.
He has a feeling he'll know the moment when he discovers it, but he's lifting his eyes to watch her throughout, barely stifled exhales of breath that turn into groans as his lips suck on her clit more firmly, as he swipes his tongue over the ridges of his own knuckles, as he tries to earn every single drop of her that wells up to taste.
And he chuckles a little self-consciously when she says that, the sound vibrating across her; the truth is that he's had time to practice, but he doesn't say that out loud because it'd be a confession tinged with regret, regret that it wasn't her he was only ever able to learn from in terms of figuring out how best to please her now. ]