[ That's the sound of an aborted sip of wine, setting it down rather than draining it, at the feeling of Zevran managing to wriggle out of the rest of his gown. ]
Allow me, [ Dorian says, as if he's offering to hold open a door for a lady. Working the gown off the rest of the way while maintaining intimacy is not too much of a struggle to give up one for the other, and certainly made easier with help. Once the dress is gone and cast aside a little less carefully than the harness had been, Dorian lays his hand on the smooth plane of corset, where it fixes Zevran's shape.
Stiff fabric and hard angles, only giving the sightly illusion of femininity. Up close and under his hands is a different matter. Dorian's inclination to leave it alone is far less practical than Zevran's, the casual, heated rake of his grey-eyed gaze indicating that he's not really thinking of the prospective future of attempting to lace the elf back into it.
By now, his robes have fallen open enough to reveal his scar-less bare chest, and he rids himself of them the rest of the way, leaving behind trousers cinched with a buckle but closed with a sash. He leaves it alone, for the moment, roaming a touch along Zevran's inner thigh. ]
no subject
[ That's the sound of an aborted sip of wine, setting it down rather than draining it, at the feeling of Zevran managing to wriggle out of the rest of his gown. ]
Allow me, [ Dorian says, as if he's offering to hold open a door for a lady. Working the gown off the rest of the way while maintaining intimacy is not too much of a struggle to give up one for the other, and certainly made easier with help. Once the dress is gone and cast aside a little less carefully than the harness had been, Dorian lays his hand on the smooth plane of corset, where it fixes Zevran's shape.
Stiff fabric and hard angles, only giving the sightly illusion of femininity. Up close and under his hands is a different matter. Dorian's inclination to leave it alone is far less practical than Zevran's, the casual, heated rake of his grey-eyed gaze indicating that he's not really thinking of the prospective future of attempting to lace the elf back into it.
By now, his robes have fallen open enough to reveal his scar-less bare chest, and he rids himself of them the rest of the way, leaving behind trousers cinched with a buckle but closed with a sash. He leaves it alone, for the moment, roaming a touch along Zevran's inner thigh. ]