[Her hands wandered. She stroked his neck, played with his hair, smoothed apologetically over the bruises she'd left (absently wondered if they'd already healed). But then she let her hands slip down, beneath his arms, to his back, to his sides, thumbs tracing the edges of his abs, up to his pecs. Around again, and in one smooth move down his back, following that curve she admired.
He was so good to touch, easy to explore. It might not have been an intended consequence of the serum, but it left her wondering if someone, at any point along the line, had thought about it.
She kind of hoped they hadn't. This was too good to have been considered so clinically by military science.]
no subject
He was so good to touch, easy to explore. It might not have been an intended consequence of the serum, but it left her wondering if someone, at any point along the line, had thought about it.
She kind of hoped they hadn't. This was too good to have been considered so clinically by military science.]