Ana Adams (OC)

His fingers made short work of finding their way up her skirt, tracing along her thighs lightly, teasingly, nipping and nipping and kissing, teasing Ana's throat with a skilled mouth till his hand found fabric, and his lips, too, when he moved her shirt aside a little to tease at her breast. he stopped, if only to work out how to best gain access, curious, yet unsure for the first time in a long, long time.