Ana nips at his lower lip, fingers pressing into his skin. Ana moves her lips from his mouth to his jaw, flirting briefly with his cheek before dipping down to the side of his neck. She does her best to leave no marks though a part oof her badly wants to.

Ana settles for tiny delicate grazings of teeth as she works her way down to the curve where neck met shoulder.

She tuggs at the shirt, a silent command. She wants it off, she wants to see, to press herself against his skin and feel his heat.