Neck, shoulders, collarbone and her upper chest. Eventually his lips trail down to the swell of her breasts, that soft, wonderful place between her breasts, his lips and his breath tickling at her skin. It's distracting and so incredibly amazing the way she rocks harder against him.

Her fingers slide across his skin, pulling a groan from his lips. One of these days he will tell her, but right now how he got his scars are the furthest thing from his mind.

At first, there's a look of confusion on Matt's face as she slips off his lap, but he hears the swish of fabric and realizes what she's doing. That's when his expression becomes one of desire and hunger. He wishes that he could see her as well. He's only got the vaguest idea of what her body might look like and that's not nearly enough.

His breath catches when Lydia returns to his lap and puts his hands on her hips. At first, he's struck a bit speechless by her verbal request. He can't see her, obviously. Not that way at least. When she clarifies by sliding his hands up her waist, he relaxes, sliding his hands back down to her hips, thumbs gliding over her hipbones then moving his hands up her waist slowly, fingertips grazing her ribs.