With her eyes shut tight, Grace sees only lights, color, a visual echo of the electricity jolting through her body with every roll of his hips, enough to feel like she could drown in it, already gasping for air. Later, there will be time later for soft, gentle, for dragging everything out. For now, she finds herself chasing the end, rocking desperately with him. Even when he's fucking her hard, he's sweeter by a mile than any other lover she's had. It makes a real difference, knowing how much he cares, that she's not some means to an end, that he's never left her anything less than blissfully satisfied. If anything, that makes her like this that much more, a hand sliding up into his hair, holding him close.