Hey, tiger!

She hasn't had a chance to speak, to voice just how badly she wants that, when she's tossed back. Almost instantaneously, he's upon her and his lips are working across the supple skin of her neck. Hands work in the same fashion, drifting across each and every sensitive curve and dip of her form. Faint mewls of approval are torn from her lips as she presses herself against him, eager to feel every inch of his lithe, limber body.

It's obvious he feels the same way as their eyes meet, brilliant green to subdued brown.

The following movements are fluid, a symphony of well-rehearsed actions that leave them beneath her smooth sheets. On her back, velvet hair of the deepest red splayed out around her, she's a sight to behold and as he appraises her with the most loving of gazes, she feels almost bashful.

"What?"

Instead of answering in words, he answers with a kiss to her cheek, followed by a delicate passing of lips across her collarbone. There's a warmth developing in the pit of her stomach and she's shaking as he descends lower, their hands intertwined as he guides himself down her body.

"Peter."

It's all he needs as he extracts himself from between her legs, her knees sliding from over his shoulders to settle comfortably upon the bed.

"Yes, Mary Jane?"

There's an undercurrent of hunger to his casual question as he peers curiously at his fingers which gleam from her wetness. It's obvious he's teasing her, baiting her, and it's working. From the wild expression in her eyes to the way she's near writhing as he aligns himself, his tip barely pressing into her warm, inviting wetness.

"Just breathe. Aren't you the one who-"

But then he's silenced because in those few moments of reprieve from his able hands, she's brought her hips up in a single thrust.

It's like pure heaven.

With not a single ounce of resistance, he sinks himself as deeply into her as possible, a single firm hand gripping her wrists high above her head as she moans out his name. Hips buck against his as her back arches and she stares wildly around the room, delirious with pleasure as his free hand descends. 

A sexpot moan that veers on the precipice of turning into a scream escapes her lips but he's silenced her quickly, his mouth working hungrily against hers. Talented fingers work at the bud nestled between her legs and she's shaking, near crying as he pushes her forward, literally and figuratively. Heat sears her nerves, leaves her breathless as he continues his welcomed assault upon her body. The feeling of her is unbearable, so deliciously slick and hot, and he's bearing down upon her. Palms smooth across her shaking stomach, over her hips as she whispers something unintelligible, her nails finding purchase across his broad shoulders. 

Then, with a broken cry, she's squeezing him, both from the inside and outside. She's a mess entirely, her hair tousled beyond recognition as bruises begin to bloom across her delicate wrists and shapely hips. Just the sight of her, of the feeling has him coming.

Muscles relax almost instantaneously, arms give out beneath him, and his head drops to rest beside hers. Mary Jane's gaze is hazy as she basks in the afterglow, her fingers tracing undecipherable shapes and patterns across his flushed skin.

"I love you."

They murmur the words in unison before their lips meet chastely and he slips himself from her. Arms loops easily about her petite waist and she's laying gentle kisses to his perspiring chest when she drifts into sleep.

When she awakes the next morning, Peter is nowhere to be found. 

Rather than rejoice at the night shared, she wants nothing more than to cry. The hitch in her throat has her curled up, a quiet sadness reflected in her soft, broken breaths.

As much as she loves him, she knows that this is how it will always be.