With a low, encouraging rumble in his chest, Levan finally began to move again. It was a painstaking, fractional glide. Just the tip of him testing the shallowest depths of her heat, withdrawing almost entirely before pressing in again. Each shallow stroke was a question, a silent "Are you with me?" that sent ripples of electric anticipation through Ilaria's core.
Between the slow, shallow glides, he rained soft, peppering kisses over her jaw, her temple, and the corner of her mouth. "You're doing so well…" he murmured, the praise a warm caress against her skin. "Tell me if it's too much. Tell me to stop and I will."
"No…" Ilaria let out a fractured sigh, her hands coming up to cup his face, her thumbs tracing his jaw. "Don't… don't go away," she pleaded, her voice a dizzy thread of sound. She was caught in a delirium of sensation, her body finally beginning to recognize the rhythm he was teaching her.
