with an almost violent impatience. His skin felt hard beneath my fingers, muscles tense, a geography of work and effort. My nails dug into his back as his body melted into mine, a clash of wills seeking only the surrender of pleasure.
Here's the translation of your text into English, keeping the sensual and raw tone:
We didn't speak. His hand settled on my waist, a firm grip that didn't ask, it affirmed. He pulled me towards him with a force that made me gasp, and his mouth found mine in a kiss that tasted of
urgency, alcohol, and sleepless nights. He was rough, there was no gentleness, just a visceral need that met my own. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling with a ferocity that made him growl.
We fell onto the sofa, clothes getting in the way, each garment ripped or pushed aside