[ Phil's fingers skate that edge of lace, skimming over the hills and valleys of her ribs. Natasha sighs comfortably, pitching forward so her forehead rests against his; her chest rises and falls slowly, visibly relaxing into the touch where it would have been so much easier to do the reverse. ]
That feels good. [ It's a murmur as she shifts, settling in. The open invitation that says yes, that says you can, that says I want this with you. Her eyes are clear when she looks at him, not sleepiness but a quiet kind of calm making her smile soft. Or maybe it's a look just reserved for him. ]
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That feels good. [ It's a murmur as she shifts, settling in. The open invitation that says yes, that says you can, that says I want this with you. Her eyes are clear when she looks at him, not sleepiness but a quiet kind of calm making her smile soft. Or maybe it's a look just reserved for him. ]
We might have to go and pick up a few things.