Especially when she leans forward and kisses me, tossing her phone away and running her hands over the kadupul tattoo. Her lips follow, curving over to kiss my inked shoulder blade. She’s done this dozens of times now, almost as if she has to say good night to each of them. She presses soft lips against my thigh and my calf, her tongue traces the cry violet at my ribs. She sucks at the two on my arms, and then she finally moves down the bed to where I’m hard again. Her mouth moves over me, and I’m lost to it all. Her tongue savors me, and my hands slide into her hair.