“Nothing wrong,“ He shook his head. Before Thomas reached over to brush his fingers over the darkening mark on her pale skin, although there was little remorse for the evidence under his fingertips itself. “Left a hickey.” The message contained a bit of, ‘hope you don’t mind,’ but none of it said aloud. It had happened and he did not regret much, certainly not that.
Savannah was splayed out rather wantonly, legs still spread, leaning back against the mirror with still wet hair. Dark curls stuck against pale skin and lying flat against her shoulders, arms and the tips curling around the curves of her breasts.
His hand on her thigh stroked lightly, “Need some help?” Down, he meant. Although they were bound to just lie in bed for a good chunk of time to regain their strength and energy, in order to go for breakfast.