He hitches up her thigh, and she opens just so, just enough, and he slides the rest of the way in with a hot groan. She shifts her hips against him, small rocking movements that hint at her desperation. Want like I want. For all he’s imagined it, this is unimaginable, her wanting, her responding, her needy little protest as her fingers grasp for purchase. Her lips fall apart in a silent gasp, and her cheeks are pink, beautiful, pink just like–