Sincerely, she says, “Of course you can,” and then proceeds to leave light kisses all down his chest, glancing up at his face between every few with her eyes twinkling. “Don’t tear my dress, Mordred,” she murmurs.
He pulled a face, sticking out his tongue. “You don’t believe me do you?” he asks, looking down at her before a smirk tugs at his lips. “Yeah, you don’t.”
“Tsk, tsk. I have rules,” Summer giggles, “about tongues.”