"I," Loxley breathes out, and it takes him longer than that to draw his focus back around, to engage in his ability to speak again besides just making sounds against her mouth.

But it's good, to focus. To pull back from the things she is doing to him—inasmuch as that's possible, inasmuch as he'd even want to. "I love this," he settles on, simply, a flutter of a smile unstoppable against her mouth. "Everything about you is beautiful, Derrica. I want to know every part of you. I want to touch you everywhere you want me to. I want to stay just here, like this, keeping you warm and wet and—"

Some deep thrum of sensation hitches his words and breath, hands clasping, loosening. "Gods," groaned out. Another subtle roll upwards, slow and barely there, more impulse than meaningful contribution. "You feel so fucking amazing."