[ She laughs, chest thrumming under his mouth, his hand. ] But I would cheat?
[ Fingertips press into muscle, the long lean lines of it roped down his spine, the bunch and pull over shoulder blades as he moves. She can see it clear in her mind, as he cuts thatch on a summer day or hauls on an oar. Another tickling bite of nails on the way back up like the instinctive awareness of attention, before her grip settles firm on his shoulder. ]
He doesn't think much of the wife he loves, this pirate.
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[ Fingertips press into muscle, the long lean lines of it roped down his spine, the bunch and pull over shoulder blades as he moves. She can see it clear in her mind, as he cuts thatch on a summer day or hauls on an oar. Another tickling bite of nails on the way back up like the instinctive awareness of attention, before her grip settles firm on his shoulder. ]
He doesn't think much of the wife he loves, this pirate.