[She's never been this nude in front of a man before. Once the rest of her clothes are gone and she's left bare the reality of what's really happening hits her square in the face as he asks her to part her thighs. There's a bit of hesitation at first as she moves her knees apart, unsure as to what he wants to do exactly.]
[ It is fair. And if it'd make her more comfortable Trevor is happy to oblige. He sits back to take in the view as he undoes the buttons of his shirt, letting it slip off his shoulders and off.
Sypha will notice the new scarring -- a very deep cut on his right shoulder, and burns down that arm. Fresh enough to still be red. ]
[She frowns at the sight of the scar and burns. It doesn't look old like the rest of the marks that litter his skin. A hand reaches up to touch beneath where the cut is, not wanting to brush against it in case it's still sore.]
[The nosy, know-it-all part of her wants to ask, but the other part of her that realizes she'll ultimately kill whatever mood they've curated keeps her mouth shut. Instead she focuses back on the kiss, returning it eagerly as she relaxes into the mattress. Maybe, for now, ignorance is bliss.]
[ He'd much rather be kissing her than talking about Death, that's for sure. Trevor presses her back and lifts his hips so his hand can finish its journey and slip between her legs.
His touch is almost teasingly light but he doesn't want to overwhelm her. Just slicks his fingertips and strokes over those sensitive bits gently, letting her get used to how it feels when it's his hand. ]
[She isn't overwhelmed just yet, but it's strange to feel someone else's fingers touching her in such a private, intimate place. Not bad, not when those fingers belong to Trevor, but it is different. In a bid to not simply lay there she lets her own fingers explore, hands sliding up over his shoulders as far as she can reach to touch him.
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You should take off your shirt too, you know.
[It's only fair.]
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Sypha will notice the new scarring -- a very deep cut on his right shoulder, and burns down that arm. Fresh enough to still be red. ]
Is that better?
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[She frowns at the sight of the scar and burns. It doesn't look old like the rest of the marks that litter his skin. A hand reaches up to touch beneath where the cut is, not wanting to brush against it in case it's still sore.]
What happened?
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[ He's busy, too. With leaning back in to kiss her, one hand settling on her knee to caress softly down her inner thigh. ]
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His touch is almost teasingly light but he doesn't want to overwhelm her. Just slicks his fingertips and strokes over those sensitive bits gently, letting her get used to how it feels when it's his hand. ]
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He's warm. He always has been.]