[There's a certain sort of satisfaction in seeing those goosebumps rise, knowing for a certainty that they're due to her, that even if he were to try and obfuscate and claim it was the chill air, the both of them know the truth of the matter. She laughs as he steps back from the wall, wrapping her arms around his neck for stability as he walks them into his room--she won't try to drop down to her feet; being carried like this is a gift, this knowledge that he's not going to drop her, the feeling of being held close by somebody that seems to want her just as much as she wants him, and the feel of every plane of his abs against her body. She'd be a fool to give that up, and Wave smiles up at him as he lays her out, reaching out to put one hand at the back of his neck so she can ensure those little kisses continue.]

I hope the implication here is you're planning to scratch my back up in here instead. Well--turnabout's fair play, isn't it?

[And that hand at his neck is just going to work its way down his back, slowly and purposefully dragging a single nail a little bit harder over his skin. Her other hand is free to roam where it couldn't before, and she won't hesitate to run her thumb over his hipbone, gently digging into the dip where the bone disappears into his pants.]