He grabs her hand, pulling her to him. She frowns at him, a million questions racing through her mind, but they are lost the second he brushes a strand of unruly hair from her face. She closes her eyes and swallows hard. When she simply leans into his hand, they both come to an understanding neith of them could have put into words.
He's claiming her mouth with such intensity, it's making her head spin. Little does she know the way she is spinning him around, all the same.
She looks up at him, eyes silently pleading for clarification, but when he opens his mouth to speak, she simply shakes her head.
"Don't."
He is dying to touch her, to hold her and so he does. He gathers her to him, running his hands over her back, into her hair, pushing under her shirt, desperate to pour all he was feeling into her. He never stops kissing her, undressing her, them, in between, leaving no space for sense and reason. Somehow, they don't mind.
She can't believe the gentleness when he lays her down and runs his hands along her side, admiring her body, her softness. He is starstruck for a moment, when he comes to understand that this is Juliet. He grants himself a few seconds to memorize her naked body against the white sheets, shoulders, hips, stomach, before leaning over, kissing her everywhere.
He reaches between them to slip two fingers inside of her, finding her very ready and it turns him on more than anything. She gasps in suprise, squeezing her eyes shut and he can't resist kissing the soft spot above her collarbone. He thinks he has never tasted anything better.
"I'm crazy about you, Blondie." He whispers in her ear, making her smile, although the playful tone is betrayed by his sincere eyes and careful touch. When he locks eyes with her (goddammit, so dark and blue, and beautiful), he knows she wasn't gonna play along, not tonight. He buries any nervousness that's left in another deep kiss, before finally loving her the best way he knows.
He's pushing into her and she's meeting him halfway. Placing a hand on her hips, he's almost losing his mind over the feeling of her moving against him. She is gentle and quiet and the delicate sound of her breathing makes him forget everything else around him. He'd be damned if this wasn't the best sex he's ever had.
"Fuck!", he hisses and she smiles shyly. He wonders if she even knew how exquisite she was. He slurrs the words against her temple, "You're beautiful.", to be damn sure she hears them well.
When she's pressing her fist to her mouth and lifts her hip just this perfect little inch, letting him in even deeper , he knows she's about to come and it sends him over the edge instantly. He gently takes her hand away from her mouth, locking their fingers, telling her he needs to hear her. And when her body finally shoots into space, she cries out for him, holding onto him, and he let's her, shaken and exhausted.