She muttered, “If you stop now I think I might kill you.” She had one arm cocked up behind her head, and the other clutching at the edge of the sofa cushions. Her tongue flicked out to lick at her lips.
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”Anyone wanting to make you a puppet would have a fun time trying, I think.” Summer traced the shape of it, then moved on to trace random shapes against his skin. “Don’t think about it right now,” she whispered. “Don’t think about anything except what you want to do with me.” Another slow kiss for him, mouth open and a little sloppy, while she pulled his arms around her again.
”You said. I’m just checking to be sure I’m not hurting you. I’ve scars too; they’re nothing to be ashamed of.” She lifted her right arm and showed him, two inches of raised flesh along one of the bonelines. “Mine isn’t even a spectacular escape wound, just me falling out of bed.”
”That sounds delightful, Victor darling,” Summer drawled when she could talk again. “What part am I to play in this pretty fantasy? Shall I lie here, moaning and undone by your every touch, or egg you to greater heights?” She squirmed beneath him, trailing hands down his sides. The left hesitated when encountering his scar, and she flicked her eyes back up to his.
”And what are you going to do about that?” Summer whispered. “Because I love to tease, Victor darling.” She combed through his hair to tip his chin up, softly biting at his nose before kissing him again, this one slow and drawn out. She refused to release him until neither of them could breathe.
”Interesting.” She scraped her nails against his scalp, trying to sit up a little farther. “And what are you planning, how that you’ve judged my character and determined me to be safe?” Just to see if she could make him lose his breath again, she twisted her hips, this time.
Summer laughed, tilting her chin up. “And what in the world makes you think you can trust me, Victor darling?” The sound that followed was anything but coherent, half-groan half-whimper, and she sank both hands into his hair, bucking up against Victor.
”Ahhh, no.” Summer stroked his hair, running her other hand over his shoulders. “Don’t be sorry.” She pressed kisses to his head, keeping her breathing slow and even and just enjoying the press of skin to skin and the chance to keep touching him.
”Easy there cowboy,” Summer murmured, drawing her arms all the way up his back to pull his head down to hers. “Has it really been that long since someone touched you, Victor darling?”
”My empathy is a bit synaesthetic. It’s hard to explain how I perceive the input, so I end up defaulting to more common senses,” Summer explained, drawing her nails slowly up Victor’s back. She closed her eyes again, trying to see his skin with her fingers, idly stroking.