[ Natasha makes a soft sound of encouragement when his mouth moves to her breast, rolling up towards him in invitation, back arched slightly off the bed. She watches him from behind dark lashes, lips curving, and she reaches out to brush a curl from his forehead, before tangling her fingers in his curls, enjoying the feeling of being able to bury her fingers in his hair. ]
Still too many clothes? [ Her voice is warm and fond and teasing as a dimple peeks out at the corner of her lips, aware of where his hand rests. ]
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Still too many clothes? [ Her voice is warm and fond and teasing as a dimple peeks out at the corner of her lips, aware of where his hand rests. ]