close but no cigar

She bucked for him, writhed for him. Her eyes glassed over in delirium she had never before experienced. He felt her shifting, her arching and her trembling need grow. His panting drew him closer, the flash of her deep blue eye as she dared to peek, to beg him for more. Yes. She would know the power of a god now.

He pressed within her, gently, tenderly, and brought himself back out. The God-Prince Ultyr groaned as he pushed within her again, a low rumble deep in his chest escaped as he held her and pressed his maw into her dainty shoulder. To feel her around him had him panting after her heat. He would not fill her with seed today. No, she needed more care before he would let her carry his holy seed.

His hips ground against her, remaining as shallow as he possibly could. Not wanting to hurt her by going too deep too fast. But the control was slowly slipping out of his grasp.