It's in her velvet-like touch, he thinks, that her love lies. It's in the way she kisses him, drags her lips across his skin, leaves little love bites on his neck and drops to her knees, unzipping his pants. It's in the way she cares and how good she is to him, despite everything, despite all the hurt, she's so good.

He owes her everything, owes every inch of his happiness to her, and he doesn't mind spending his life trying to make her laugh or smile the way she's smiling now, looking up at him as she pulls his cock out of his boxers, and he's so hard, aching for her, just for her. He loves the way she blushes, loves the way she lets him hold her hair so it doesn't fall on her face as she licks the underside of his cock, all the way from the base to the head, and then repeats the motion until she gets him wet and slippery. She jerks him off, then, just for a little bit, just to tease. He can't help but throw his head back and close his eyes, let her name escape his lips in a moan.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands twisting the covers, digging at the mattress. He looks at her and she changes the pace, her grip is tight as she slowly moves her hand in that way he adores, and then she smiles at him again. He's lost, he's found, he's hers, and she knows this now, she knows this when she closes her lips around the head of his cock, starts sucking him, letting him slide in far enough to make him beg her, please, Teef, and she complies, hollows her cheeks to suck him harder until he escapes her mouth and she takes the opportunity to catch her breath.

Her lips are red, a little swollen. Cloud cups her face with his right hand and she leans into his palm, into his touch, his thumb going over her bottom lip, then he slides his hand down to the back of her neck and leans forward to give her a long kiss.

It does little to calm his need, and being aware of this, she wets her lips, runs her tongue around the head of his cock, focuses most of her affection there, sucking just the tip, sucking hard enough to make him tremble, his right hand on top of her head, his fingers getting tangled in her dark hair, and she doesn't mind, doesn't mind at all, because it's so satisfying when he says fuck like he's so helpless under her command-he never really cusses and to hear him say it now, like this, his voice deep and rough, sends a rush through her system.

He's so close, she wants him to lose control, wants a taste, so he tries to resist but she sets a rhythm, her head bobbing up and down until it's too much and he lets her know, groans and moans and comes, melts in her mouth like sugar, and she swallows every drop, only lets him go when she's done.

When she backs away and their eyes meet, his breathing still heavy, he notices the way the moonlight shines on the scars past battles have left on her body, and they're pearly white, twinkling like shooting stars. She turns everything into pretty things, and he's amazed because not all of his scars have vanished and the ones that remain seem out of place, big and deep, yet she's always tracing them, soothing his pain away.

He grabs her by the arms, pulls her to his lap, she giggles and protests but he kisses her, his hands on her waist.

"Don't think we're done here," he says, after the kiss.

"Why would I think that?" she asks, her cheeks red and her eyes gleaming. "We have all night, right?"

He smiles and nods, kisses her again, makes her laugh and he sees forever in her.