There's a muffled grunt against her neck when she grabs at his hair, his shoulders hunch up a little, he draws in a breath--but he's corrected himself by the exhale, the tight grip on his hair serving as encouraging more than anything.
He doesn't immediately see how the compliment was backhanded, but he figures he might as well just take the woman's opinion on this one. He thinks of asking, smugly, whether backhanded actions are also out of the picture--or of leaning backwards and letting himself hit the bed, presumably watching her panic a little with all the control suddenly in her hands.
Hm. Maybe he'll save that one for later, actually. He settles for a chuckle against her skin, "I'll try my best."
From there he merely increases his attention to her neck, his kisses becoming more involved. He's moving up, pressing his lips against the hard part of her neck, the soft part under her jaw, the bone that runs just above that...
no subject
He doesn't immediately see how the compliment was backhanded, but he figures he might as well just take the woman's opinion on this one. He thinks of asking, smugly, whether backhanded actions are also out of the picture--or of leaning backwards and letting himself hit the bed, presumably watching her panic a little with all the control suddenly in her hands.
Hm. Maybe he'll save that one for later, actually. He settles for a chuckle against her skin, "I'll try my best."
From there he merely increases his attention to her neck, his kisses becoming more involved. He's moving up, pressing his lips against the hard part of her neck, the soft part under her jaw, the bone that runs just above that...