He pressed his forehead against hers, eyes still open, watching her. "Mnnnh..."
She laughed, a small, broken sound that melted into a moan as he began to move.
It wasn't hard, wasn't frantic. He set a slow, deep rhythm, each stroke long and precise, dragging all the way out before sliding back in with a gentle but firm push. His hips rolled just enough to make contact in the most sensitive spot inside her, the place that made her whimper under her breath every time he hit it.
Daniella's hands slid up his arms, then around his neck, fingers curling into his hair. She tilted her head back, exposing the line of her throat, the thin mark where he had bitten her earlier still faint beneath his lips. His mouth brushed over it now, soft kisses instead of teeth, the contrast sending a new kind of heat coursing through her.
"Look at me," he murmured, voice low.
She did.
