.v.
"You are beautiful," he whispers in her ear, then kisses her, slow and lazy.
She gives herself up to his kisses, feeling safe under him and enjoying the slow rhythm he's employing on her mouth.
She understands now why his bike is always gleaming and shiny, why it purrs when he's warmed up the engine. His kisses reflect an impressive attention to detail, like he catalogues each of her moans and whimpers, knows when to go slow and when to speed things up, knows how much she can handle and when to push her, knows how to make her purr.