She fingers traced the shape upon that broad upper arm by measured pace, almost as while memorizing his glow of his flesh.
Quiet breath grazed upon bare skin as softly she moved into him, entwined frames aligning with deep yearning.
Softly he met her by a long deep lips a kiss that grew just without rush, exploring her patience of her stillness.
Each stroke remained slow, tracing more of possessing, letting that warmth rise in gentle rhythms.
At last she finally sighed his name against his lips, the murmur carried the twin tenderness with need.
In their silent quiet she and he created one cadence and it remained more as impatience rather than closer like private truth solely the two between the lovers were able to keep.
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