Rainbows and flowers and what it meant to be healthy

"It's so red..." 

I mumbled in a low tone as my eyes stared at the condition of my inner thighs. They were as red as a blooming flower, creating a line from the rigorous movement befalling upon my skin last night.

How many times did he end up doing it last night? I wasn't counting, and my muddled head couldn't think properly anyway.

"Sorry," I heard his insincere apology, accompanied by a light-hearted chuckle as he embraced me from behind, rubbing the area near the reddened part.

"Don't!" I warned him with pursed lips, to which he responded with a kiss on my cheek. But he didn't move his fingers further, just stayed holding the outer part of my thigh. 

Don't misunderstand--I didn't scold him. I just wanted to try something.