Simple, quiet words.
Kagome feels him rest more fully between her legs, and she stretches her arms over her head, lost to sensation.
An appreciative hum rumbles in time with the thunder. Sesshoumaru strokes down her sternum, the backs of his fingers brushing the curve of her breast before his mouth follows in their wake.
She moans, stretching out even further.
He touches her carefully. Slowly. And humble yearning burns on the tips of this aching tenderness as clawed fingertips ghost along the soft plane of her stomach.
Her own affection swelling, she brushes his cheek. "Let me touch you."
