His mind was numbed, his body, his movements all guided by lust and the appreciation of the beauty below him. His eyes, glazed over and staring, still took in her shape, her curves, the sheer perfection that was Jaela. Those jade windows roamed over her back, her neck, her head, and lower.
His hands, clamped on her waist, too appreciated the feel of her skin, soft and smooth as silk. In time, his touch gentled, his pace slowed, his grip on her lessened.
Lust once again turned to love, and passion. For a moment, he had forgotten himself, lost in euphoric throes as he was. But here he was again, worshipping her for what she was worth.
Despite the easing of his pace, he had been far too close to his own climax to continue for much longer, but had gathered enough of his wits to make sure that this could be about her, too - this was more than just his own desire. And so, he continued on, pushing forward even through his own climax, sinking into her again and again even as he pulsed and spilled himself within her, groaning with pleasure.
His shoulders sagged, his body feeling light. But he was determined to see her through as well, to pull her over the edge after him.
"Jaela....Gods, I love you....I love you...." he panted, his voice ragged above her, thick with passion and adoration.