Feyre was surprisingly touched by something likely said in jest. So much so that it took her breath, though part of he hoped that he saw it as what his lips were doing rather than saying that brought about the inability to draw a breath. Or maybe his naughty fingers. Which coaxed a light squeal from her when he pinched.
She laughed softly, nothing more than a lusty rumble really. "Yes I would, you can't, I'm only meant to be looked at not touched." She teased, while drawing her knee up so that her inner thigh caressed his outer