Your skin is alive with goose bumps; they litter your arms and legs, and aid the pleased way your body is thrumming with shivers and lazy smiles that make your eyes half-lidded. He hovers above your naked form, smiling, watching the pleasurable euphoria take over your features.
When he feels your body shake with them, he smiles, satisfied at having aroused such a reaction from merely touching you here and there. He curves an arm around your waist and drags you against his chest with a low purr that touches your ear in a suggestive comment, a chuckle rumbling out of his chest when you blush.
He wasn’t even aware that he could make such a noise or that his body could react the way it was. Silently, he’s cursing your slow fingertips and supple lips, wishing they’d go away so he could clear his mind, so he could figure out where to touch you too in order to evoke the same response.
One of his big hands scales down the side of your body while the other tickles up to your chest. When he’s got a cupful of you in both hands and his lips have started to press wet kisses to your skin, you shiver and he grins in response.
He’s wearing a grin of knowing, a cocky smirk, as you squirm underneath his toned body. When you shiver and groan for him, he tutts, leaning down to lowly explain that you have to wait and be a good girl.