A shudder ran up her body as he spoke; the sheer dominance in his voice was exciting in its own right, even his hand wasn't grasping her ever-so-wonderfully.

Her hand, now freed, makes its way to his thigh; slender fingers trace the armor covering his form, feeling the cool metal beneath them before they move onward.

Her hand comes to rest on the sash that rests just above his hips, pulling at the yellow fabric lightly. An almost-innocent, playful sound leaves her lips, and her features curl into a smile; before long, her hand dips beneath the sash and the waistband of his pants, and her fingers tease him to hardness. Then, as her tongue runs over her lips again, she begins to stroke him, keeping a languid, lazy pace for the time being.