The touch was electric, sending shivers down his spine, but now they were shivers of pleasure, not pain.
Noah arched his back, pressing himself closer to Mei, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He wanted Mei, needed him, the memory of the pain fading into the background of a building desire. He reached down, his own hands now eager, and began to unbutton Mei's shirt, his fingers clumsy with anticipation.
Mei's fingertips traced the delicate curve of Noah's sleeping cheek. A gentle touch. His finger paused, snagged by an anomaly on the nape of Noah's neck. With meticulous care, Mei eased Noah's shirt down, revealing the mark. It was an intricate design, etched into the pale skin. As Mei watched, strangely the mark began to fade, its lines blurring and dissolving before his very eyes.
