What a ridiculous weakness for him to have! Senji hissed as Maverick's other hand slid under his shirt, his skin so sensitive to that touch it was almost unbearable. Really, a demon, prince of a great clan, master assassin, and genius strategist, and here he was, ticklish as could be. How unfair the world was! His head tilted back with a groan, both loving and cursing those soft kisses, his skin flinched under his lover's lips and gave over to soft spasms under his hand.
"Yes...that...stop." Senji didn't want to, but he couldn't stop himself from writhing, soft gasps coming from him as he tried to contain himself. He had to bite his tongue more than once, holding his breath to stop himself from breaking down into very undignified laughter. How many people knew Senji was ticklish? The list was incredibly short. His mother, but she was deceased, his brother Kanji knew, and then there was Maverick. That was it. It was strange, on the one hand, he absolutely hated being tickled, and on the other, it was still attention from Maverick and he secretly loved it.
After the silver-eyed demon asked what kind of tart he was, though, Senji couldn't contain himself any longer, he just gave up trying. Cackles erupted from him, at least he was going to consider them cackles, like hell he was giggling. It was hard to talk while you were giggling like a fool and struggling to breathe. "Hardly," a gasp of air, "forbidden." He lost himself for a few moments again. "You're cherry. Sweet and tangy." 'And my favorite.' Of course he couldn't add that last part.
"Now stooooop." He half whined half laughed.