Roland had come only minutes before, and so he was in no danger of doing so again, or not unintentionally. They fucked for an hour, then two, sometimes speeding up so he could hear Teresa’s orgasm cries again, and sometimes lazily pleasing each other while getting their energy back. 

Later, in one of their calm periods, he kissed her ear and her nose, and looked down at her. “Those things you say when you’re coming. Tard-ah. Kit toll. Is that in some language I don’t know? What’s it mean?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I have no idea why I say that. Or if it means anything, except that I’m happy. Not just coming: happy.”

“Oh.”

“Do you hate it?”

“No! Absolutely not! I just haven’t heard that before. I suppose I’ll want to hear it all the time, now.”

Teresa grinned up at him. “Well, you know how.”

He laughed, cock still thick inside her, and began to move, slowly at first, digging deep and slowly withdrawing, then filling her again. Teresa sighed. It was a dance, the best dance, and they were speeding up.

When they were fucking hard and fast she raised her thighs again and put her feet on the small of his back. That had made him come, the last time.

He sped up, now desperate for her, and Teresa came, screaming her sounds, hearing his guttural groans of pleasure and release just a few seconds later.

They lay together, Roland above her, his heart pounding against hers.