Measured

She is casual, her pace measured, anticipating, but not frantic. He, on the other hand, is impatient, and she feels his hand slip around her waist as she unclasps the watch and sets it on the dresser. She turns to him slowly and smiles. "I wore the high ones," she says, lifting a foot and showing him her heels. "So I'd be taller."

He makes time for a slight smile, before he bends and kisses her, fiercely. He moans into her mouth, his breathing fast and shallow, small whimpers in the back of his throat as his lips press into hers hard and his tongue battles hers. He is passionate, and she responds automatically, ignoring his stubble scratching her skin. His hands roam, pressing her flesh, and his mouth consumes hers, teeth scraping against the flesh now and then. She can tell he battles for control, and she considers giving in, knowing he's waited for this for too long.

But she needs the control, knowing that soon, her body will be his and she will bend and flex to his every want. Knowing she'll let him hold her hands taut and pull her body against his and immobilize her while he ravages her with his mouth and his hands and his erection, already straining the confines of his slacks. She can taste the faint traces of blood from the inside of her lips already as he sucks on her bottom lip, drawing his teeth across the tender skin.

She brings her hands up to his cheeks and holds his face, which makes him pause, waiting for her next move. She takes the opportunity to pull back slightly from his mouth, breaking the connection, letting the cool air from the room swirl between their moist lips. She lets her lips brush against his ever so lightly, and she feels his mouth part; she pulls back, teasing his lips with the tip of her tongue. She feels his reach out tentatively, brushing against hers, and she pulls back again, still holding his cheeks in her hands. His breath is still shallow and fast, and she can feel it tickling against her face. She leans in again, this time fitting her mouth gently against his, and he lets her control the pace, mimicking her movements. She dances around the edges of a kiss, letting the heat and the air and an occasional flick of the tongue create the sensations. Each time she gets closer, he moans into her mouth, and she pulls back, making him wait. He learns quickly, waiting for her to set the movement, responding in kind, but she can feel him quiver, waiting.

Only when his control is evident, when it matches her pace and her movements, does she give him more. She opens her mouth, sealing it against his, feeling the moist inside of his lip against hers. She sweeps her tongue against his and over his teeth, and he responds tentatively, not wanting her to pull away. She does it again, this time, slipping her fingers up the back of his neck, through his short hair. She gently sucks his bottom lip into hers, and he returns the favor. As he does, she threads her fingers through the longer hair on top and pulls his mouth to hers, crushing his lips against his teeth.

His moan is gutteral, and his hand slides down her back to cup her ass, pulling her up and towards him. She grinds her hips into his, opening her mouth completely to him, and his tongue forces its way into her mouth, possessing her, sucking the air from her lungs. Now she moans, and he acts quickly, unhooking her skirt and pushing it down, not even giving her a chance to step out of her shoes. He pulls her sweater up over her body and backwards over her head, trapping her arms behind her, not bothering to pull it all the way off. With her arms behind her and her shoulders back, her breasts jut forward, the bra barely containing them. He leans down to kiss the tops, his fingers tugging at the strap and she whispers "Yes . . . "

He pauses, his mouth hovering abover her flesh, feeling the heat radiate against his lips. She arches a little more, thrusting her breast forward, anticipating his mouth. Now, his pace is casual, measured, and not frantic, his lips barely brushing her skin while his fingers contemplate exposing her nipple to the cool air in the room, to his tongue. She closes her eyes, her breathing shallow and quick; she waits for his next move.