Desmond trailed light sensual kisses from the curve of your neck, down to your shoulder blades. Every peck leaving your breathless as you silently asked for more, albeit you didn't say it. He knew what you needed, he knew what you craved, and he would oblige. Desmond fingers would mindlessly wander down your front, your shirt unfastened with each gentle flinch of his finger, softly pulling you back to him the moments you would drift away. "are you alright?" He would ask softly against your throat.