“Am I doing it right?” he asks as he speeds up his movements.
I hear the nervousness in his voice.
My hands slide up his back.
“If you were doing it any more right I don't think I could handle it,” I respond softly, meaning it. “You're perfect.”
He shakes his head a little.
“You're so quiet,” he says.
My hands go back to his hips as he continues to move over me.
“I'm thinking about how good it is, how good we are.”