Ana shivers and watches him pull back. She bites her lip, looking him over and for a moment she's frozen by uncertainty. What to do?

Her head tilting as she takes in the way his shirt sits on his chest, Ana runs her hands over and down, feeling their way over cloth covered muscle.
She leans forward, back curving and flicks her deep blue gaze up to his. Ana's hands creep beneath his shirt and move up, her cool hands learning their way up his torso, muscle and scars all.

Her fingers don't linger as they explore with gentle touches and the occasional drag of blunt nails and Ana leans over him, mouth seeking his.