She cried out again when he took his hand away, half-relief and half-anguish. Forcing her eyes open and focusing on his face, she flushed hotly when he licked his fingers, another after-shock shaking her body. Involuntarily she licked her own lips, staring wide-eyed. Languidly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, reaching out one slow hand to trace down his arms.
His blush darkened as he realised that she was watching him, his tongue eagerly curling around his fingers and licking them clean, gaze unwavering as his breath hitched. Goosebumps arose where her fingers brushed by, and he scooted closer to her, fingers still in his mouth.
She took his other hand, bent her head, and began to kiss each fingertip, across the middle of his palm, and up along his arm. She licked at freckles and sucked slight open-mouthed marks at the places where his muscles joined. When she reached his throat she nipped briefly, then started down.