When I turn to pull her to me, she rushes to me, and her…

““When I turn to pull her to me, she rushes to me, and her hands immediately go for my jeans. She’s in a hurry. When I glance down, her fingers are shaking, and she won’t look up at me. She’s nervous. We can’t have that. “Sweetheart.” I catch her chin with my finger and tip her face up to look at me. “Sarah, this isn’t a race.” “Seriously, get naked, and we can get to it.” Get to it? Under normal circumstances, I would agree with her 100%. I enjoy foreplay as much as the next person, but the main event is, well, the main event. But I don’t want to rush this with her. I want to explore her, listen to her, smell her. Savor her. I grip her hands in mine and raise them to my lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “We’re going to get to it, trust me, but we’re going to get there slowly.” She blinks at me, as if she doesn’t understand the words coming out of my mouth. “Breathe, baby,” I whisper and kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. I ease my body against hers and revel in the heat coming off her. She takes a deep breath, and with her eyes on mine, lifts up on her toes so she can meet my lips with hers, kissing me more lazily now, settling in to enjoy. And that’s exactly what I want her to do. Enjoy every touch, every kiss.””

— Kristen Proby