Monsieur is received at the door and ushered inside. He is relieved of his outer vestments and encumbrances are stowed. He is offered refreshment and left listening to subtle music in the low lit antechamber. The lighting is dim, the music somehow familiar. Candles crack and splutter from an unfelt draft.
From upstairs a door is opened and light pools at the top of the stairway. It is his signal to alight. He does so, slowly, both wanting to steel himself for what may lay in wait for him and to savour the anticipation of seeing her. She is silhouetted by a warm light behind. The curlicued detail of lace edging her robe unnoticed as his eyes glide over her. Unable to read her expression he steps forward and catches her scent.
He longs to touch her, to rush and grab, assert himself over her, but knows there are other times for that approach. He smiles, awaiting her instruction. She steps back, he steps toward her and stops.
'Good evening, lover. You'll need not want for thought tonight. All decisions have been made for you.' She purrs, her voice low as she moves to pass him, stopping to speak into his ear. She avoids eye contact as she informs him. 'I want you to be still and listen. You work hard, you are fatigued, and you need rest, tenderness and cosseting. Here, let me get you out of those clothes.'
He stands quietly as she, button by button, opens his shirt. Still standing beside him she reaches up and eases the shirt from his shoulders bearing his chest, broad and scantly covered with hair of a fine and pliant texture. The shirt is pushed and falls from his wrists. She stands in front now, looking at him, admiring the curve of his brow and dark colouring. His deep set eyes meet hers, and a smile dances at the corner of his mouth. He cannot read her expression, but wonders at her thoughts.
She steps closer, her features dance as a sequence of emotions cross her face. Her expression settles, robbing him the chance to use the shorthand of their acquaintance to read her thoughts. She steps closer still, he now feels the tip of her nipples through her robe as they brush his chest. As if electrocuted she steps back, and breathes to calm herself.
Locking eyes she reaches forward and easily grapples to release his belt. Deft movements and swiftly his trousers fall exposing his trunks. Standing only in undergarments in the dim light the pair continue to stare. She reaches slowly and touches him. First his chest, her fingers trace his collar bones to the peak of his shoulders. Her hands stray to his face grazing his eyebrows to settle in his rich steel curls. A hand cups his check as the other outlines his ear and jaw. She notices the set of his mouth, his expression kind despite the many wounds he carries.
She steps closer again and places a feather light kiss on the edge of his mouth, prolonging the gesture. Resting her lips there she whispers, "You are wanted. You are desired. You are valued. You are mine."
She moves both hands to his chest and begins telling his skins secrets as her kisses meander down his body. They amble around his ear, nape, jaw and settle upon his neck. Tens of caresses delivered as she inches slowly down his torso. Kneeling now, she edges her fingers beneath the waist of his undergarment. Matter of factly they are lowered. This move releases his man hood, broad and curved in its response to her