It wasn't obvious. But she felt it, and that single move made her feel powerful enough. Slowly, she traced her lips along the lines of his scars, all old and new....
And then, as her lips tocuhed the last of the scar along the side of his waist, she paused, her breath hot against his skin, waiting to see if he would move again.
He didn't. Slowly, she dragged her palms, tracing the structure of his body, as if mapping out the man and then stopped waiting for a reaction. Again there was nothing. So, she stepped away from him and stood up, circled around him and stood there, looking down at him as he waited submissively on his knees, awaiting his next 'instructuon.'
Her gaze dropped to his chest, tracing the hard contours until it landed on something that made her pause. Just above his heart, a faint scar cut diagonally through the skin.
Unable to stop herself, she reached out, and with the tip of her index finger, she followed its path, lightly drawing the line from end to end.
