He paid attention.

That was the difference with him. He paid attention. To her breathing…. To her reactions… To the tiny involuntary movements her body made when pleasure was beginning to take control of her thoughts. And maybe that’s why she kept thinking about his mouth Because he never treated intimacy like something to take. He explored her like he genuinely enjoyed learning her. Slowly. Patiently. Like the anticipation itself was part of the pleasure. Especially when he would tease the inside of her thigh first… Close enough to make her tense. Close enough to make her heart race. But never quite where she wanted him yet. And that waiting? That unbearable, beautiful waiting? It drove her insane. Because by the time he finally touched her she was already melting. Already gripping the sheets. Already losing the ability to think clearly. Not from explicitness. From attention. From feeling desired in such an intentional way that her whole body softened under it. And honestly… that might have been the most addictive part of all. Knowing he enjoyed her pleasure almost as much as she did. So now, even alone, sometimes warm water sliding slowly up the inside of her leg was enough to make her imagination wander… …and remember exactly what his patience felt like