Alethea was acutely aware of every little movement he made. She whimpered at his touch as he slowly removed the wrapping from her breasts, never stopping the slow kisses on her neck. She shivered lightly, feeling the briefest of touches from his shaking fingers against her skin as he removed the cloth. She continued the ever so slight movements beneath him as he touched her, each touch new and exciting. She let out a soft gasp when his lips moved from her neck to her throat, making their slow descent down across her skin. The kisses were sweet and tantalizing as his lips made their agonizingly slow descent towards her breasts. It was maddening, but in the best way possible.<br/><br/>She let out a very pleased moan as he explored her breasts with careful attention. On one she felt his soft hand gently exploring and massaging the flesh, while the other felt the searing touch of his soft lips exploring, driving her passion far beyond what she thought possible, and then pushing further. Her own hands continued to roam his back, his arms, any part of him that she could reach, wanting desperately to return his feeling, this heat, yet not willing to end his careful, pleasing exploration of her own body.<br/><br/>Another soft sound escaped her lips as his other hand roamed down to her hips, exploring them and drawing her closer, if that were possible. She complied with no resistance, no hesitation, wrapping one of her legs around his, instinctively pressing herself against him as she did. It felt incredible, different than any of the closeness they had shared before. It was intoxicating, all of it. Every touch, every caress, it set her body alight, driving her desire, her hunger, her need, filling every one of her senses with him.<br/><br/>And then his mouth slipped over one of her nipples, sucking softly on the flesh, tasting it, and eliciting another cry of pleasure from the young woman, who continued to involuntarily move beneath him, against him. She hadn't known such a thing would feel so amazing, and yet it did. Every little kiss, every taste, every nuzzle against her breast stroked her own fire, and her own hands sought his touch just as feverishly as he drew her closer, and closer, giving her more and more of him to explore. She wanted more. Needed it, even. She wanted all of him, every last part of him, and she wanted him to have every last part of her. Anything and everything she would gladly give to him, he didn't even need ask, for it was already his for the taking.<br/><br/>He melted into her, and she into him. She felt like putty in his hands, eagerly waiting for every touch, to know what he would make, what new feelings, what excitement, what passion he would stir up with the most unexpected, and far from unwanted touches. When had she become so desperate for his touch? For him to taste her, to desire her so? And when had she begun to desire him so? There were no answers, but she didn't need them. All she needed was him, his touch, his love, even. Everything he had to give, she would take, and everything she had to give him, she would gladly share.<br/><br/>She could feel his caresses becoming more feverish, more hungry, and he began to move against her as she moved against him, and it drove her crazy. Her own hands moved to his shoulders, and then his chest, down his abdomen, wherever she had access, she explored with a feather-light, fiery touch. She could feel his response to her touch, and it drove her further, seeking to see and feel the pleasure she brought him, to feel the smallest tremors in his muscles as her fingers brushed across them. And still it wasn't enough. Still she wanted more, to take more, and to give more, until they had both shared all of them. But even then, would she truly be satisfied? Only in time would she be able to answer that question.