His fingertips tickled her scars. Made them tingle a bit. She couldn't help wanting him to touch her more. Seek out other scars.
He placed his head against hers, and she could feel the emotions flooding through him. More concern for her. More admiration verging on worship. More sorrow on her behalf for the terrible things she'd experienced.
She shivered when he kissed the scars on her face. She watched in the dim light as he gestured her name. She could discern the question hidden in his movements, and she couldn't help but take a breath. He was asking her the question she wondered about him.
She answered by kissing his forehead, then his neck. Her hands drifted across his chest and shoulders. I see a wonderful boy. A kind boy. She inhaled another deep breath, gathering herself. A boy I can be with ... and one I could give myself to.
There was quite a bit of gravity in that statement, conveyed through the intensity of her movements. She gripped his hands both gently and firmly at the same time, and she guided them along the contours of her body until they reached the hidden zipper on the back of her costume.
She hadn't quite intended to take this step when she'd arrived at his place. Certainly some fooling around with what little precious time they had. But the more they embraced and communicated, the deeper she realized her feelings were. The more she felt she was ready to take the next step.