It seems he didn't have to complete his thoughts after all, for the best perhaps, as he wanted nothing more than to sink into Zevran and his attentions like one might a warm bath. It had crossed his mind that this might all be a stratagem of some sort, a means to an end as it was never too far from his mind that Zevran was an assassin and seduction was as much a tool and a weapon as the sharp end of a blade. It wouldn't be the first time that he though--this might not be the worst way to go and if he didn't have a mission to complete he might entertain the idea more thoroughly. Not that he believed that it would happen here and certainly not right right, did that make him confident, or careless with his life?
Slick gloved palms over his skin seemed to advocate for an entirely different point of view, distracting Michel from thinking about anything other than the oil warming against his skin. The texture of leather gloves sliding over the planes and plateaus of his body, skin warming in time with every slippery stroke. It was almost tempting to grab his companion and pull him in so that their bodies could slide together just as easily as those fingers did against his skin. Tempting...and maybe, after all images of Zevran's sleek frame oiled up against him, skin darker than his own in contrast, limbs tangled around his own. It was a real threat, but he was also enjoying his current petting session, "hmm...I think it would be very difficult for anyone not to relax like this..."
He was more than capable of relaxing, breathing deeply, though really it only made the leather more potent and the heady atmosphere heavy. Much as he wanted to try, it was difficult to remain passive, not touching Zevran, was torture. Doing his best not to hamper the experience he coasted his own hands slowly along the assassin's arms, twisting around the fine limbs, attentive to the sturdy muscles, knowing them as well as he knew his own. Though not a creature of seduction it was certainly important to know the body, to be able to identify the various types of pain...conversely he could identify what felt good as well.
no subject
Slick gloved palms over his skin seemed to advocate for an entirely different point of view, distracting Michel from thinking about anything other than the oil warming against his skin. The texture of leather gloves sliding over the planes and plateaus of his body, skin warming in time with every slippery stroke. It was almost tempting to grab his companion and pull him in so that their bodies could slide together just as easily as those fingers did against his skin. Tempting...and maybe, after all images of Zevran's sleek frame oiled up against him, skin darker than his own in contrast, limbs tangled around his own. It was a real threat, but he was also enjoying his current petting session, "hmm...I think it would be very difficult for anyone not to relax like this..."
He was more than capable of relaxing, breathing deeply, though really it only made the leather more potent and the heady atmosphere heavy. Much as he wanted to try, it was difficult to remain passive, not touching Zevran, was torture. Doing his best not to hamper the experience he coasted his own hands slowly along the assassin's arms, twisting around the fine limbs, attentive to the sturdy muscles, knowing them as well as he knew his own. Though not a creature of seduction it was certainly important to know the body, to be able to identify the various types of pain...conversely he could identify what felt good as well.