There are no words that could possibly describe how good this feels, to be ridden so slowly, kissed so deeply, a heavy warm body pressing him down. How his nerves hum at that perfect pitch. How every last inch of him tingles with a beautiful, sublime energy. It's powerful and all-consuming and he never wants it to stop. He rolls his hips, moving with him, and the two hit a wonderful wavelike motion that has him sinking slowly toward that oblivion he craves. Does he want that oblivion, right now, though? Or does he want to live forever in this exquisite bliss, right on that knife's edge between not enough and too much?

He nearly whispers to Vash to move harder... but something stops him. He has no idea why, but he absolutely needs to follow the other's pace this time. He'll hungrily take those occasionally fierce kisses, then, savouring that pressure and that tiny bit of pain. His nails occasionally scrape as his back arches, the craving for more tightening his spine.