[Morrigan makes a sound, unbidden, against his lips once they are flush. He is warm in the cool night air, as inviting as she was before, and she is loathe to even contemplate the idea of sending him away now. She nips at his lower lip, careful and surprisingly gentle - she doesn't want to startle him - for the moment.
The hand at his chest snakes down to his hip and pushes up beneath his tunic, finding the strong and defined muscles of his stomach which she can admire through touch instead of sight.]
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The hand at his chest snakes down to his hip and pushes up beneath his tunic, finding the strong and defined muscles of his stomach which she can admire through touch instead of sight.]