He doesn't draw her down into a kiss, wanting to hear her cries and watch her face as he strokes and caresses her. He slips a finger inside her, whispering as he does he knows not what: sweet words and endearments, coaxing her into her body, to feel all she can. His own desire is almost blinding, the hand he has at her breast shaking, and he aches for her.

"Have me," he offers, tipping his own hips up, every touch adoration. "Have all of me, Su. I am yours."