#TurnTheLightsDownLow .....(Dimmer)

"I want you", She repeated. In case he was too self-consumed to realize the urgency of her needs. But he understood. She had always come first with him. Always. Her pleasure, was his pleasure…her passion, was his passion.

He wanted her. She could feel him through the blackness of his tailored pants, the length of him, the thickness of him.

He stood slightly above 6ft, and she was slightly above 5ft. She was petite really, such that when he closed the distance between them, she could feel the strength of his masculinity on her toned stomach.
The heat between them could only be described under the hidden and buried pages of Jackie Collins novels or Harlequin romance.
He wanted to do explicit unsayable things to her that would make her knees buckle from too much pressure and her body quiver from too much intensity.
He wanted to fuck her, then make love to her, then hold her.

With all the hunger that could dominate his body, he pushed her naked slim figure on the wall of the hotel room, with her perky breast resting on the wall, and the curve of her ass thrusting up for access into the bodily cavity of her butt as he rammed into her with as much ferocity as he could muster. He had barely had time to let his pants drop to his ankles, he had barely had time to wrap up his member before applying the kind of internal pressure that could have caused the involuntary and sensual non-human moan to escape from her lips, and erupt from her throat.
This time was simply to acquire as much satisfaction as they could while quenching their animalistic thirsts.

He wanted her in every possible position, and in every possible flexibility. He wanted her shaking and begging and screaming and tearing at his back, and digging her fingers into his hair.
So he turned her to face him, her back against the wall as he kissed her already swollen lips deeper than he should have, with his tongue pushing, searching…he used his right hand to cup the under of her breast as he alternated between gently squeezing and then thumbing the insides of her breast to her nipple.
A soft almost inaudible moan escaped her lips as he bent his head to her bouncy bra-less breasts, sucking in on the hardness of her dark nipples, paying careful and thorough attention to the excitement that was building up in her utterances. He brought his head up to kiss her on the lips, and as she tried to push his head back, he held up both her hands on the wall above her head. She was powerless to the little pinpricks of pleasure she felt with each nibble on her neck, and on her shoulders, and on her breast. And with each kiss that he placed on her earlobes, and her navel, stomach, and every other part of her body her could get to.

With the effortlessness of an athlete, he lifted her size 6 body off the ground. He lifted her so high off the ground that her legs would wrap around neck and shoulder blades, and with an upward thrust of her lower back, his head would be buried inside her vaginal walls, and his tongue could dart in and out of her vulva, with his ready tongue wetting her clitoris as it flickered back and forth, before he settled into absorbing and soaking up her total femininity.

Without a moments hesitation he carried her sensitized body and laid her on the plush bed as he stripped himself of the rest of his clothing. Her eager hands attempted to help him but he brushed her fingers away and consumed her lips, earlobes and forehead with kisses.
With the pounding of her heart and the touching of lips, the kisses made her head useless, as if she was intoxicated by some elixir, an elixir of sensuality and passion that cannot be found in all the world. His smoldering seduction made it almost impossible for her to avoid the state of dissociation that she was reveling in. She'd never been so desired, so consumed by a man…this man.

Fingers traced her chin, her mouth. His breath on her neck, in her ear. Heat lay against her face. Teeth delicately held her lip, and then a sting, just the smallest one that left a longing for a deeper cut. The temptation of delicious wickedness. They played with each other and ran fingers over skin, as if they could only think, exist, if in contact with each other.

All unspoken requests were immediately answered, but there was no urgency this time, only the patience of timely exploration of bodies that had been robbed of their familiarity. He wanted to get to know her again, and he did.