[Zevran only pulls back to sigh a little, happily, tracing his fingertips up her shoulders and neck, moving here and there to flick over the shell of her ear, the line of her fine cheekbone, the flush softness of her lips. She seems happy. He wishes he could see the delight in her eyes, even if he can detect it in the hitch of her breath, the speed of her pulse.
He urges her closer, by the shoulders, until she's nearly climbed on top of him, to kiss and nip over her throat. He breathes in the scent of her hair: just a slight touch of the soap she uses, and it smells of the sea and sunshine. Wonderful.]
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He urges her closer, by the shoulders, until she's nearly climbed on top of him, to kiss and nip over her throat. He breathes in the scent of her hair: just a slight touch of the soap she uses, and it smells of the sea and sunshine. Wonderful.]