the pause between breathing

Okay, he says, and Isla smiles against his neck where she's pressing kiss after kiss to his throat, able to feel him growl deep in his chest as her hand moves in lazy strokes against his erection. She sighs out a soft note of pleasure to feel his touch against her breast, her fingers squeezing him, teasing at what's to come. "Touch me," she whispers, shifting to sit up a little so she might position herself against him, guiding him inside her inch by inch with a breathy moan of satisfaction. Isla goes slow, at first, gazing down at Varus through hooded eyes, golden curls a tumbling mess about her face and shoulders. Her hips roll against him, one hand splayed against his chest as she finds a rhythm that's almost infuriating in how gentle it is. "Gods, Cal," she all but purrs, as if challenging him to change things up. Isla the flesh is weak