My gasp of a moan mingled with his and I thrust sharply against him, my fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders. I pulled away to breathe, and came back to brush my lips softly against his, the heated look in his eyes urging me for more, harder, and I gave it, thrusting hard against him as I felt the tide rising in me, threatening to sweep me away with its force. Not yet, I thought, pushing it back; I wanted to see him go first, to see him undone; it was something I knew I would want to remember.