Gerrard pauses for the barest of moments as she whimpers his name. "What is it my dear?," his voice conveys certain concern, though it is husky with desire. He returns to gently kiss at her neck, feathery and light at her throat, but deeper, and far more sensual at the jugular. As he continues to tease, she can feel one of his hands firmly massaging her firm buttocks, whilst his other gently cups and teases her breasts, his lips leaving a fiery trail to turn to ice in the night at as the moisture cools off rapidly taking the heat of their rapidly rising desires with it. After a time one hand slips into her hair to once again cradle her head and pull her deeper into his kisses. Eventually she realizes through the heat and lust, he's doesn't force, he teases and adjusts position, but anything she resists he stops, he's not going to force her, he's bringing her pleasure as only a lover would, without desire for his own very clearly illustrated needs would suggest by the bulge pressed against her stomach, throbbing powerfully with his pulse.