“That’s it, Angel, I’ve got you,” Jack murmured, lowering her slowly onto him, until with a soft moan their hips met for the first time in seven years. She tilted her face up, pulling him into a slow, passionate kiss, twining her tongue with his. God, he was always so considerate. She’d forgotten that, somewhere along the line. His hands rested on her hips in a way that was so natural she couldn’t imagine them being anywhere else. She breathed in, and breathed out, letting her body grow used to the pleasantly thick intrusion, until the twinges of pain as she shifted slowed, then stopped.
“O-Okay,” she murmured, pressing little kisses to his muscular shoulders, “I’m good…”
His hands took their cue, tightening on her hips, her buttocks, lifting her slowly. The loss of him inside her was a teasing emptiness all by itself, until he dropped her, driving himself back inside in a rush. She moaned, louder than she had intended, her arms tightening around him.
“Too much?” he asked cautiously, and she chuckled at the concern in his voice.
“Just right,” she purred, and he moved again. This time she moved with him, rocking her body to lift her further up, using the long, lean muscles of her legs to drive her body back down onto him, their hips meeting with the slap of skin on skin. It wasn’t long before she found a rhythm, losing herself in the slick, sweet friction their motions provoked- the dizzying sense of emptiness constantly replaced with the thick, urgent presence of Jack inside her for the first time in what felt like an eternity.