[Ramesses returns Chariot's hunger, the taste of wine lingering still in their kiss. He had not imbibed as many glasses as she had -- he was eventually too focused in his work of weaving flowers into her hair that he drank far slower than her -- but Ramesses didn't really require its influence for his enthusiastic response to her call. That he ever allows her to leave his bed whenever she chooses to warm it is a miracle in of itself. Ramesses could listen to the hitch of her breath, her soft cries, her unraveling French for eternity if such a thing were ever possible. That she has somewhat decided in at least this small way to skip past her somewhat timid pleas for demand is a sweet pleasure unto itself and he is more than happy to oblige.]
[He responds to the subtle tugs of fabric beneath his hands as she pulls loose the ties of her dress by pushing and pulling the fabric to assist her in her endeavor to be free of it. In doing so, he has to allow her a small degree of separation from him, but it's never more than is strictly necessary. He leaves the last of pulling it off to her, his hands beginning to trace warm skin greedily. There isn't an inch of her that Ramesses has not laid claim to, and he is ready to pay his tributes to her once more.]
[Wrapping an arm around her, he begins to sit up a little further to reverse their positions.]
no subject
[He responds to the subtle tugs of fabric beneath his hands as she pulls loose the ties of her dress by pushing and pulling the fabric to assist her in her endeavor to be free of it. In doing so, he has to allow her a small degree of separation from him, but it's never more than is strictly necessary. He leaves the last of pulling it off to her, his hands beginning to trace warm skin greedily. There isn't an inch of her that Ramesses has not laid claim to, and he is ready to pay his tributes to her once more.]
[Wrapping an arm around her, he begins to sit up a little further to reverse their positions.]