That was more like it. Amber's anxiety dissolved before it built up to a problem and she let out a deep, satisfied sigh. Now Eric's every kiss, every hot touch tingled against her skin, undoing knots of tenseness and strain. This was better. Caring. It didn't need to be hurried, angry, like it'd have been, if they'd followed his lead. "I want to make you feel good," Amber said, voice soft like velvet. She'd noticed he was disappointed-- it'd be impossible not to, from his sullen retraction-- and she hoped he wouldn't stay that way.

Amber couldn't stop herself from running her hands over his bare chest, curving over the planes of his pecs, his scapulae, his latissimus dorsi. Yes, this. Her breathing quickened a notch. So toned, so strong, so arousing. His hands and face she'd had many opportunities to learn, to memorize; his body, not as much. Amber titled her mouth to his throat, moving along his jugular. Eric was still relatively dry of sweat, so his skin tasted less of salt than she remembered-- but it was still intensely him. Tasting, smelling him, it made her shudder with desire; made her wet. She didn’t know how he could affect her so much; he was just one more person, out of so many. But fact was, he did, and she was glad to be sharing this moment with him. Glad that neither the mention of his brother nor her slowing the pace down had started another fight that made them fight once again. Hoped tonight would be special, too. "Eric," she whispered without meaning to before licking his Adam's apple, sucked on the end rise of one of his clavicles.