“You tickled me,” she manages, between snickers, until her eyes fall on him biting his lip. That, finally, stills the laughter. Summer leans forward, eyes flicking between his eyes and his mouth, until she can kiss him, sink her own teeth into that lip. She can sense his body’s reaction, and smothers a smile.
He playfully launches into a series of quick kisses up and down Summer’s neck. Having noticed her reaction the first time, he slows down and lingers at the shell of her ear. Pulling back, he moves his hands off of her legs. One to take her by the waist again, one to tangle together with hers.
Percival giggles a very manly giggle and declares, “Look at that! Now we’re dancing.” He makes an attempt at waltzing in his seat before giving up, resting his forehead on Summer’s. “I would very much like to kiss you for a very long time.” He moves his hands again, bringing them up to her jawline. His voice has been growing lower and coarser by the second. “May I?”
The mock dancing makes her laugh more, and secretly promise herself a day where she teaches him how to dance. Somewhere away from Camelot, with a green, dappled meadow and no one nearby to trouble them. But his question surprises her. He thinks he has to ask? Now, with her ensconced on his knee and their hands and arms entwined together?
It’s sweet, and just a little adorable. “Yes,” Summer murmurs, eyes holding her gentle laughter, “yes, of course you may.” She doesn’t wait to see how he takes her answer, though. Her eyelids lower, and she tips her face sideways just enough, mouth slightly open in anticipation, heart pounding.