"Is that a promise?" she asks, a touch breathless.

He'll have no time to answer, for she's chasing after his kiss. Hand cupping his cheek, head tilting so she can better lick into his mouth, drag her tongue against his. The soft, wet squeak of one kiss ending and another beginning is all she hears, because she keeps kissing him. Until their lips are sore, and their lungs scream for air. And when she's dizzy off him, she'll drag her teeth intentionally slow against his bottom lip as she leans back to catch her breath.