What she wants suddenly and more than anything is to have him on top of her, his warmth and his weight on her, and when he moves down the bed, she lets out a soft whimper, though it's hard to be frustrated at the loss of him when his mouth is moving over her skin. Every bit of her feels especially sensitive and even just the brush of his mouth against her skin is causing her breath to quicken. She's impatient and she wants to do this for hours and she wants to see all of him, but then he's tugging her underwear off and pulling her toward the edge of the bed and all she manages is a short, surprised laugh as she's drawn toward him.

"Oh, fuck," she breathes at the first flick of his tongue and one of her fists clenches involuntarily in the sheets under her body. She can feel herself crushing rose petals between her fingers and she almost laughs again, but it comes out as more of a breathless gasp. Lifting herself on one elbow, she slips her other hand down, against the back of his neck first and then into his hair, holding onto him lightly as she watches. That seems like a bad idea, though, she's not even going to last the predicted eight seconds at the sight of him between her thighs and she makes a sound that could be his name before her head falls back against the bed, her eyes squeezed shut for just a moment. But only a moment, because she can't not look, she wants to see him so badly, and, already breathing hard, her teeth pressing into her lower lip, she tips her head to the side again, looking down at him.