[ He resists the urge to touch as she navigates her way through his clothing, unintentionally turning his own play upon him. Once she's removed his tunic and moved onto his first gauntlet, he lifts his free hand to trace the line of her cheekbones with a curled knuckle, watching her nimble fingers work. He cups her cheek, tilting his head to meet her lips. ]
You needn't ask, [ he murmurs, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip like a lingering promise. His fingertips trail down the curve of her neck to her sleeve, softly pushing the material off her shoulder.
She also needn't bother with the other gauntlet; the rest of his outfit, save for his trousers, is magicked elsewhere in a faint shimmer of gold. Perhaps he could do the same to hers, but he'd much rather the old fashioned way.
Gently tugging his other hand free, he casts the other sleeve off Wanda's shoulder. There is a visceral sort of satisfaction in watching the fabric fall away from her center, unveiling her breasts. His fingers ghost downward along the curve of her ribs with the faintest touch against the underside of her breast before hitching on the buckle holding the rest of her gown together. ]
no subject
You needn't ask, [ he murmurs, brushing his thumb along her bottom lip like a lingering promise. His fingertips trail down the curve of her neck to her sleeve, softly pushing the material off her shoulder.
She also needn't bother with the other gauntlet; the rest of his outfit, save for his trousers, is magicked elsewhere in a faint shimmer of gold. Perhaps he could do the same to hers, but he'd much rather the old fashioned way.
Gently tugging his other hand free, he casts the other sleeve off Wanda's shoulder. There is a visceral sort of satisfaction in watching the fabric fall away from her center, unveiling her breasts. His fingers ghost downward along the curve of her ribs with the faintest touch against the underside of her breast before hitching on the buckle holding the rest of her gown together. ]
Shall I?