[ he is nothing if not attentive to the needs of others, and he is confident in nothing if not that. she might feel him smile, the curve of his lips against hers sweet as the dessert between them. given her positive response, Kitsu leans over again to swipe more still of that dessert, trailing a clean finger down her neck only to switch it once he reaches her chest, trailing a curving line of cream and syrup.

giving her hair another tug, he speaks to her against her lips, moving to nudge a leg against her thighs. not a press, not a pin and not force, but the idle tease of implication. he's here, when she is. ]

I know the overseer likes a thorough job, but consider this my formal request to take down the decorations [ he hooks his pinky on her corset to tug at it, ] so that I can do that. [ he ends with another nip at her lips, leaving his hands where they are: one at her top, the other raking through her hair. ]