Stopping is the farthest thought from his mind, anyway. Especially after that bite. If she's to leave him with something to remember her by, he'd better make damn sure she'll remember him too.

While she moans, he growls and pants, the aching of muscles drowned out by every other wonderful sensation flooding his body. The shuddering clatter of the table, the slapping of flesh against flesh, combined with their own voices makes for a song which only increases the passion and pleasure which it speaks to.

There is a struggle in all of this, however. The sounds along with the sight of her, arched in rapture, and the feel of her, are all far too wonderful. It's difficult not to careen off the edge himself, though he's determined not to. Not until she's ready. Though as he thrusts into her has his fingers digging into her thighs and his jaw tightening with the effort.