Peter's hands would shake as he fumbled with your clothes, trying to be smooth but ending up even more flustered by how much he wants you.
His breath would hitch every time your skin made contact with his, and he'd blush furiously, stammering out apologies for how hard he already is.
He'd constantly check in with you, asking if you're okay or if he's doing everything right, his voice soft and shaky.
Peter would be extra cautious with his strength, making sure his grip on your body is light, though he'd want to hold you tighter.
His kisses would be desperate, yet tender, like he's trying to show how much he adores you with each movement of his lips.
He'd laugh nervously when you moaned his name, and it would only make him more eager to please you, despite his nerves.
His hands would tremble as he trailed them down your body, feeling your skin for the first time in this intimate way.
Peter would be hypersensitive to every touch, gasping when you ran your fingers through his hair or over his chest.
He'd bite his lip as he looked down at you, not quite believing this is real, whispering, "You're so beautiful," as he struggled to keep his composure.
Peter would move slowly, taking his time with every kiss and touch, trying not to rush even though his heart was pounding.
He'd be constantly fighting his own excitement, needing to pause and take deep breaths just to keep himself from finishing too early.
His voice would crack when he asked you what you liked, genuinely wanting to know how to make this perfect for you.
His eyes would be full of adoration and awe, as if he can't believe you're allowing him to be this close to you.
Peter would keep muttering under his breath how amazing you feel, in between soft groans as he pushes deeper inside you.
He'd press his forehead against yours, panting heavily, needing the closeness to ground himself as he tries to focus on you.
Peter's hips would stutter nervously as he tried to find a rhythm, his movements awkward at first but gradually becoming more confident.
Every time you moaned or gasped, he'd lose a bit more control, biting his lip and looking down at you with a flushed face.
Peter would whisper apologies whenever he got too rough or fast, despite the fact that you're clearly enjoying it.
His hands would grip the sheets tightly when he feels himself getting close, desperate to hold on just a little longer to make sure you finish first.
When you take control, his eyes would widen, and he'd groan, loving the way you take charge but still looking adorably overwhelmed.
His nervous chuckles would break through the tension every now and then, trying to lighten the mood even though he's burning with desire.
Peter would be so focused on your pleasure that he might forget his own, needing you to remind him to let go and just enjoy it too.
His legs would tremble as he reached the edge, and he'd bury his face in your neck, moaning quietly against your skin as he tried to hold back.
He'd mutter breathless praises, telling you how good you feel, how he's never experienced anything like this before.
The moment he finally lets go, his whole body would shudder, and he'd cling to you as if he's afraid to let the moment slip away, whispering how much he loves you in the aftermath.
