Her hands against his skin are heavenly. He's mostly tried not to imagine it, but her birthday, the day they kissed in his room, even that day in the garden those months ago -- it's wondrous to have it for real, her adventurous boldness tempered by how sweet and reverent she is. He wants to be worthy of that reverence, today, always, to have her look at him like that, and he can't help the way he beams at her.

She meets that gaze firmly, steadfastly, as she has everything they've done together. The way she has her arms around him, her folds contracting under his hand as her hips squirm to feel more of him -- he doesn't think he could be happier. But she slides her hand around his hip, fingers grazing along his cock, he cries out, burying his face in her neck. He gasps her name, peppering her skin with kisses.

"Give me a moment," he says before kissing her hard and deep, moaning at the stimulation on his cock, at how badly he wants to be inside her, how good it feels to not be pushing that desire down.

He breaks off, breathing heavy, smiling at her before he shifts his weight, reaching for the side table drawer and fishing around for a condom. It's been awhile since he had need, and for a moment he's worried he's out of luck, the idea of not being able to lie with her shaking him more than he would have anticipated. But his fingers close around one, and he's sitting back, straddled across her thighs, grinning down at her as he catches her eyes on him, dazed and flushed and unbelievably perfect.

"You still alright?" he asks as he slips the translucent material over his length, cock jumping with the promise of being in her momentarily.