Foreman couldn't remember feeling better than this moment. Not only the physical drive in his body, the sharp firing of every nerve as he slid as deep as he could, as close to Amber as they could possibly get; but the sheer satisfaction of the entire morning shone even brighter. He'd woken up, slightly turned on, nothing he couldn't have ignored or dealt with on his own if Amber had still been insistent on 'going slow', but instead, from the very first, she'd encouraged him, urged him higher. As much as he wanted her, he felt it all the more sweetly because, whatever Amber's apology had lacked last night, Foreman felt it now, in the way she'd given herself over to him.
And it wasn't that Amber had changed, or given up control more than necessary; it was that Foreman could feel, with every movement and every kiss, that she'd somehow come around to trusting him, more than she had. They hadn't had a single awkward moment, when he wanted one thing and Amber wasn't ready, or when she demanded too much and he hesitated. If Amber had read his mind, she couldn't have done more to bring him to his peak; the fact that she was writhing underneath him, arching up into his every thrust, meant so damn much. Foreman's pace quickened, his breath coming in hot spurts of air. Amber nipped at his jaw, kissed him, short and breathless, and he returned every one, as much as he could. God, ohhh. Groaning, he pushed forward again, and again, all the heat and need concentrating in his cock, the friction between them.
"Amber--" As much as his name seemed to be torn from her lips each time they came together, Foreman couldn't help answering. "Ohh, yes, honey, yeah--" Out of his control, the sudden slam of his orgasm left him groaning harshly, his hips bucking twice, again, hard, as his arousal overwhelmed him. Like lightning along his nerves, flowing in, then, as suddenly, dissipating. Foreman's thrusts flowed, but he couldn't quite stop moving. Aftershocks rippled through him, and the feeling of being inside Amber, being with her like this, was too much to give up. Breathing hard, he settled on top of her. He didn't want to crush her, but he didn't know if he was physically capable of holding himself up anymore. He let his head fall forward, dropping a kiss on Amber's cheek, and then settling on the pillow beside her head. Beyond the pumping bellows of his lungs, Foreman drifted on the current of his slowly fading orgasm.
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And it wasn't that Amber had changed, or given up control more than necessary; it was that Foreman could feel, with every movement and every kiss, that she'd somehow come around to trusting him, more than she had. They hadn't had a single awkward moment, when he wanted one thing and Amber wasn't ready, or when she demanded too much and he hesitated. If Amber had read his mind, she couldn't have done more to bring him to his peak; the fact that she was writhing underneath him, arching up into his every thrust, meant so damn much. Foreman's pace quickened, his breath coming in hot spurts of air. Amber nipped at his jaw, kissed him, short and breathless, and he returned every one, as much as he could. God, ohhh. Groaning, he pushed forward again, and again, all the heat and need concentrating in his cock, the friction between them.
"Amber--" As much as his name seemed to be torn from her lips each time they came together, Foreman couldn't help answering. "Ohh, yes, honey, yeah--" Out of his control, the sudden slam of his orgasm left him groaning harshly, his hips bucking twice, again, hard, as his arousal overwhelmed him. Like lightning along his nerves, flowing in, then, as suddenly, dissipating. Foreman's thrusts flowed, but he couldn't quite stop moving. Aftershocks rippled through him, and the feeling of being inside Amber, being with her like this, was too much to give up. Breathing hard, he settled on top of her. He didn't want to crush her, but he didn't know if he was physically capable of holding himself up anymore. He let his head fall forward, dropping a kiss on Amber's cheek, and then settling on the pillow beside her head. Beyond the pumping bellows of his lungs, Foreman drifted on the current of his slowly fading orgasm.