Dragoncrest Cliffs Carnelian

The wocha would not make her wait any longer. Her every move, every pleading whine, had him riled right to the point of caution's absence.. and effortlessly enough. With a low rumble from the back of his throat, he kept his movement forward and touches purposeful--experienced, too, as he teased only a moment more--nips, licks, all he could reach, all before he gathered himself to bring them together.

His senses reeled and he grasped through, though soon found the best balance to indulge in what he had to do--for Portia, for himself, and for what may come, weeks from now or even later tonight. Suddenly, there was far more to consider, yet all he could think of was her and everything she was to him as he breathed deep her heady season's perfume. He set his easily encouraged pace, but took his wife's cues; mindful, but a pent up tempest of strung too tightly lately, he had to focus on her first of all for the good of it all, honestly--Until it was said and done, even just for now, he couldn't bear to be apart from her.