She presses her lips to his abdomen, feeling his soft skin, the slightly raised scars. The tip of her nose slides across warm flesh, wrinkling as she smiles, he moans but not in ecstasy. His fingers find her hair and tangle there, curling. She raises her eyes to his, he shakes his head and his hand falls from her hair. She keeps her lips there but eases the pressure against him, mumbles something to his skin, secrets to be carried by blood cells, through veins and up his heart. They’d be kept there.