He kissed her again in high day’s sun on table’s edge in center and recess of room, sight of outdoors and world beyond windows, but by the depth in the room and shade of the glass, hidden from returned view.
He kissed her in sit, she spread ready and fast, eager-wanting for his touch; trace of his hand, warm cradle of hold, her press and moving upon, heat telling to his hold; then slide and hook and inner-curl, forward draw of her body nearer to table’s edge; her holding to him, feeling as he rose—warmth and fill and complete in his shape—her hand working as he touched her.
Stronger then in force of kiss, bend of his knees, aligned and true, force of focus as they went; silence of words, language of breath and unbreaking of their eyes, steady in fast thrust-rhythm, focus of feel, keep of their cycle, strong of both in the need; the start of his sounds, the answer of hers, encouraging and wanting on. Trail-draw of his voice as she felt him go, her flutter in focus of take and holding of eyes that brought her to surprise as her legs wrapped tight and follow of arms, her body close and holding as he felt her too upon and through release and his own trembling.
Then return of the world and sudden aware, in love and lasting high, break of their stare into soft after-kiss, her lick of his lips at kiss’ break.
Eyes opened, still in love; seeing other glowed in passion’s spirit.