The only way they could get closer, after he wrapped his arm around her middle, was if their clothes came off. She whimpered a little at his teeth in her lip, and scraped at his bare skin.
Mordred chuckled as the sound of her whimper reached his ears and he ran his hand down her side, placing it at her waist.
“If you keep doing that,” she manages to breathe, “Mordred, I won’t wait until tomorrow night.” She breaks away from the kissing and props her chin on his chest, then frowns slightly and sits up to pull the shirt away. “What’s this?” Gently she touches the triskele marking.