Summer settles back against his warmth, head tilted back against his shoulder. “Relax. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just sit here, just be together.” Is Percival a /virgin/? It seems odd, but then she doesn’t know very much of how he came to be a knight, at Camelot. Arthur’s knights are a much more motley assortment than Uther’s knights ever were.
“You can do whatever you like, and if I don’t like it I’ll tell you.” She shifts, a little, so if she reaches forward just a little more, she can kiss his throat.
Percival responds in kind, kissing her right behind the ear. He reaches down to play with the fabric of her skirt. He mumbles quietly, “This is a really pretty colour on you.” Before long, his knuckles and the back of his fingers replace his fingertips on her thighs, and the palms of his hands. He kisses her again, at the bottom of her neck, almost to the shoulder. He leaves his lips there for a bit and inhales deeply, hands still moving on her thighs.
When his mouth lands behind her ear, she shudders hard. She’s never been able to control her reactions to that spot; it’s /so/ sensitive. Instant turn-on. But his hands are sliding up and down her leg over her skirts, and he’s still kissing her bare skin, which brings desire in a quieter way, at least until he breathes in, which tickles. Summer giggles, and once she’s started she can’t stop.