She laughs, and pushes him flat, sitting on top of him. “You are mine, Sir Knight. Surrender yourself to me.” Then she leans down and kisses him again, slow and intimate, before giggling and nipping at his neck.
”Never,” he whispers, leaning up to kiss her, nipping at her bottom lip. “It’s going to take more than kisses to get me to surrender.”
Summer slides down and pushes up Mordred’s shirt, kissing there. “What will bring you to surrender to me?” She looks up his body, through her lashes.