[It's something infectious, that joy. It leaves him smiling too, nipping at her fingertips when they brush close enough, closing his eyes in a quieter pleasure when her fingers card through his hair. And he's slow to explore her, hands and mouth, hands and elbows above her. It's not the act he's forgotten but the nuances of another woman's body have become easy habit and it's a small fascination to find where she reacts and doesn't. He's attentive in looking for the differences, each one quelling slightly the guilt that rises when she gasps in an echo of Cameron's sensitivities.
It doesn't happen too often. They're different women, and he's patient but eager, twining his fingers with hers under the waistband of her jeans and testing how far the denim will stretch around his wrist. Just far enough for him to slip a finger against her and drag the wet trail back up across her stomach - something for him to chase with his tongue when he moves down the bed, lifting her hips, working at buttons, tugging.]
action;
It doesn't happen too often. They're different women, and he's patient but eager, twining his fingers with hers under the waistband of her jeans and testing how far the denim will stretch around his wrist. Just far enough for him to slip a finger against her and drag the wet trail back up across her stomach - something for him to chase with his tongue when he moves down the bed, lifting her hips, working at buttons, tugging.]