The twitching jump of abdominal muscles contracting beneath the brush of her lips told her everything she needed to know. The permission she had to infringe upon the sanctity of that particular scar had been a temporary one. Reserved for the circumstances of the unseeing night and otherwise reserved for... something else. Perhaps someone else. Yelena recalled the tender ambivalence she sensed with the sensitivity of her impermanent sightlessness. His 'friend' who gave him the scar still meant something to him and it wasn't all negative despite the violence done to him.
Whatever she made of that, she couldn't dwell on this for long. Not with the distraction of his fingers and mouth canvasing her body. She couldn't help the arch upwards, seeking the wet heat of lips and tongue. Questing digits sliding along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs until they reached their target. The pressure and friction fingers can offer, firmer and more nimble than tongue, had Yelena inhaling sharply.