lanselos_du_lac

Susan runs a hand down his arm. This feeling - this reluctance to not be constantly touching him - is new and strange in its newness; usually she's quite pragmatic about her assignations. But, she reminds herself, they have a relationship; they agreed upon that. Perhaps this might be part and parcel of that?

Still, she threads their fingers together as she rises, and tugs him after her into her en-suite. "A shower might be more focused," she says, thoughtfully. "And then we might more quickly return to the utter excess of whiling away the day in bed. But a bath is more intimate." Her gaze flicks to him, to his face; she finds that she has no interest in dragging it away. "Have you got a preference?"