She can’t help giggling at the way he responds to her touch; both the way his skin rises in gooseflesh after the passage of her fingers and the way he yearns toward it like a cat expecting petting. She sought out the places that made him tremble the most, intent on driving him wild and completely forgetting that her original plan had been /her/ shirt coming off, not his. He’s just so gorgeous like this, skin bare to her hands and emotions writ plain on his face, and she has to kiss him again.
Trembling and rolling his hips forward in order to push his body up and into her hands, Isaac’s own fingers clutched at the bottom of Summer’s shirt, too distracted with the sensation of her fingers ghosting across his flesh to remember their earlier plan. But subconsciously, his knuckles brushed along the bare flesh of her stomach, and he whimpered into the kiss, gently nibbling on her bottom lip.
She moaned with the pressure of his body against hers, hooking one leg around his knees. The kiss devolved into a series of kisses, each more fierce than the last, desperate and desirous. Keeping her mouth locked to his, she pushed him up, and back, and over, until it was his back pressed to the cushions and she straddling him, perched in his lap and hands greedily exploring.