““Am I doing it right?” he asks as he speeds up his movements. I hear the nervousness in his voice. My hands slide up his back. “If you were doing it any more right I don't think I could handle it,” I respond softly, meaning it. “You're perfect.” He shakes his head a little. “You're so quiet,” he says. My hands go back to his hips as he continues to move over me. “I'm thinking about how good it is, how good we are.””
