There's just enough light bleeding through the blinds to cast gentle shadows along the planes of her body. The sight before his eyes is of a woman in her prime, generous curves with a dancer's body. Her pale skin is flushed and he can see a light sheen of sweat and the telltale marks of his kisses on her breasts and belly.

Somewhere along the line, she pushed the pillows aside, and her arms have moved over her head so she can grip the edge of the mattress. Her strong legs have shifted to rest over his shoulders, her heels digging into his back. Her head has tipped back and her eyes are closed, a look of fierce concentration on her aquiline features.

He hesitates and she holds her breath, her teeth fixed in her lower lip. Her hips never cease their gentle undulation, and one hopes he doesn't need verbal confirmation that his tender ministrations are very much welcome.