Molly can't move her arms to tangle her hands in her hair, so instead she wraps her legs around his hips as he moves in her. And when he looks at her, it knocks the wind right out of her. This isn't fucking. Not by a long shot. She knows it too and he can see it in her eyes. This is so much deeper than that. So much more meaningful. Molly is his. She trusts him enough to tie her up. She gives him her body to do what he likes. Her hips move in time with his thrusts and she is lost to him and the pleasure he's giving her.