Diana moves to reach for something else and he smoothly shifts in place accommodate her without losing contact. However long it's been since he was with someone like this, he still knows what to do without being clumsy or unsure of himself. Like riding a horse, in a way, but considerably more enjoyable.
The meaning of her movement becomes clearer a second later when he feels the fabric of her gown begin to loosen. He's no more skilled with thread than is necessary to stitch his own wounds but he's certain that the seamstresses of this world must be absolute masters, to craft something so lovely to look at yet so easy to remove. He'll thank them if he ever gets the chance and give them no more thought until then.
Lifting his mouth from her skin, he moves to assist her. With two eager pairs of deft hands, it only takes seconds before he's left feeling entirely, entirely overdressed compared to her.
Altaïr pulls back just far enough to see her better, appreciation and a growing hunger clear in his eyes. They're joined by amusement that sparkles there when he spots the blade.
"I see you came prepared," he says, and is tempted to reach for her again — but she isn't the only one here armed. He'd taken his jacket off upon returning to the room earlier, so he can turn his attention to the bracer still attached to his left arm and, more importantly, its efficient removal. He's brought his hidden blade into many places, but he has no plans to wear it to bed, even if the idea of Diana still wearing her weapon there is a little more appealing than he should admit.
no subject
The meaning of her movement becomes clearer a second later when he feels the fabric of her gown begin to loosen. He's no more skilled with thread than is necessary to stitch his own wounds but he's certain that the seamstresses of this world must be absolute masters, to craft something so lovely to look at yet so easy to remove. He'll thank them if he ever gets the chance and give them no more thought until then.
Lifting his mouth from her skin, he moves to assist her. With two eager pairs of deft hands, it only takes seconds before he's left feeling entirely, entirely overdressed compared to her.
Altaïr pulls back just far enough to see her better, appreciation and a growing hunger clear in his eyes. They're joined by amusement that sparkles there when he spots the blade.
"I see you came prepared," he says, and is tempted to reach for her again — but she isn't the only one here armed. He'd taken his jacket off upon returning to the room earlier, so he can turn his attention to the bracer still attached to his left arm and, more importantly, its efficient removal. He's brought his hidden blade into many places, but he has no plans to wear it to bed, even if the idea of Diana still wearing her weapon there is a little more appealing than he should admit.