He groans, momentarily overcome by the mental image that blesses him with, combined with every little thing she's doing that seems designed to render him speechless. "Christ, that's so hot," he manages breathlessly, staring at the long arch of her body above him. "You're so fucking hot."

He can't help but try to speed things up a little bit, though she massively has the upper hand here; if she wants it to stay slower, there's not much he can do about it. He knows this. It's not a bad thing.