Claire could almost feel the moment when Mohinder realized what was going on; something in the minute tension that filled his body before he melted against her ministrations. She liked the feel of his stomach muscles beneath her fingers, and it seemed he was fond of the attentions too. Then again, that was the whole point…
She had never been certain if hormones in people worked like they did in animals, how dogs could smell pheromones and know when another was in heat, but she’d be willing to put stock in it. It was almost like he gave off a palpable electricity, an aura of sleepy lust She’d have to ask the doctor about it later, when the both of their minds weren’t on acting out those attractions.
Her hand was suddenly enveloped in his and guided further down along his body, through soft curls and against warm skin. If she hadn’t been in the mood to begin with, his gesture of control and eagerness–not to mention proof of his own mood–would’ve done the trick. Claire smiled in the darkness and ran her tongue along his ear, chuckling into it. “You can have whatever you like, tant que je peux toucher chaque centimètre de cette peau de moka…" She didn’t bother translating her desire to touch every mocha inch of him, knowing whatever she said couldn’t rival how much he liked her voice when she spoke in French.
Her leg now over his body, she felt a a little shiver run through her as his fingers took their turn exploring. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of him, the building tension in the air. Claire was practically aquiver with anticipation, and she nudged her own hand against the base of him again.