She laughed softly, not with cruelty. He let a grin play over his face in response to the sweet, happy sound. That sort of joy, it was beautiful. To see and hear her relaxed and joyous was a privilege and one that made him want to bring it out of her again. More than that, he wanted to have her, to taste her laughter on her mouth, to feel her carefree delight as he caressed her. He met her kiss with his own, darting his tongue against her lip in a brief lick.<br/><br/>“If I forgive, it means I cannot tease, doesn’t it?” he asked, mischievously. “You’re a babbler,” he said, with very clear amusement though with no malice. “I honestly hadn’t expected that. I expected quotes from lays and sonnets, not such sweet ramblings.” He smiled. “I like it.” Now that he understood, he did like it.<br/><br/>She retreated and blushed, and he wondered if there was something the matter, but it seemed she was merely composing herself, for she moved closer and started to explore his neck with her mouth. It licked and sent brilliant sparks of pleasure through his flesh. His body had reacted with an adamant demand, his manhood pressed against his breeches – and then her teeth – “Mercy,” he groaned softly, his hands moving to her waist and holding her as his hips rocked, wanting desperately to break his celibacy and take her to the bed, hitch up her  skirts and sink into her.<br/><br/>Anything he would ask... such trust, such freedom. Such willing naivety. “I ask this,” he said after a moment, his hands moving up to her face, cupping her jaw. “I desire this. Your happiness. Your joy. I would bask in it. I crave it more deeply than my body craves yours. Give me your smile.” He kissed her, delicate light brushes of his lips against hers, as she had brushed against his neck.<br/>