Committment

The young woman seemed to hesitate; probably considering her own meagre experience. But before any of them could deflate, she pushed the sheets away and sat on the bed. Tristan followed, sitting awkwardly. Suddenly, the mood seemed as thick as a londonian fog. But then, she rose on her knees and settled her hands upon his shoulders. A caress, so gentle, to allow his muscles to unclench and his posture to sag a little. Her lips kissed his forehead, her fingers trailing across his upper arms, then his chest. Tristan closed his eyes, relishing in every single touch she bestowed. When her lips landed upon his throat, kissing his pulse point, a moan bubbled in his chest. His hands tightened around her forearms as she played with the hem of his t-shirt, little fingers grazing the skin of his stomach. So close, too close to a very sensitive part of him.