She parted her mouth against his, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of his lips. He tasted so good, felt so good underneath her hands, and he liked this. It was slower than he was used to, different, but it was nice to go slowly, to be savored, learning each other a little bit at a time, and -

Christine's eyes flew open, and she gasped, pulling away and staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Oh," she said when she could speak. "Oh." She reached towards him again, tentatively, her fingers hesitating a few millimeters from his cheek. Perhaps he wouldn't be pleased that she had read his thoughts. Perhaps he wouldn't want her to touch him.

"Did - did you feel that?"