[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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[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.]