A man who normally put great care into his choice of attire, Quinn found himself little concerned with what Mikkel did with his clothing now, his attention focused solely on the swift and adept movement of the surgeon's fingers, disrobing him as carefully as he might cut into the chest of some poor schmuck on an operating table. Quinn made it easy for him, at least in this, arching his long body to aid in removal, allowing Mikkel to render him naked and vulnerable beneath him. Quinn caught that look in his lover's eyes again, that predatory gaze suggesting Mikkel wanted nothing more than to eat Quinn whole. He flourished underneath this silent praise, elongating his elegant form, relishing in the older man's libidinous need.<br/><br/>Focus trained on Mikkel as an attentive doe awaiting its hunter's next move, Quinn's eyes followed the doctor's hand as it searched for something. Lubricant. Condoms. Good. As beautiful and charming as Mikkel was, Quinn would have been forced to insist upon protection if Mikkel hadn't taken it upon himself. A doctor should know better, after all. The young man relaxed, sinking back into the plush blankets as the silky lubricant was applied to those lovely, deft fingers.<br/><br/>"Perhaps just a bit rough," Quinn shot back, mischievous glint illuminating his dark eyes. A thirsty tongue, wet with saliva, skated across Quinn's lips as Mikkel brought his fingers between his thighs. He made a sound in his throat, something between a happy sigh and satisfied moan, spreading his thighs wider to give Mikkel all the room he could possibly desire.<br/><br/>The doctor was teasing him, just as he had before, not afraid to move slowly, to entice Quinn to<i>beg. </i>He imagined Mikkel enjoyed the manipulation as much as he enjoyed the sex, though as of yet Quinn had nothing to compare it to. Merely speculation, so far. But<i>hell</i>did Mikkel enjoy dragging out Quinn's satisfaction, building and building and building upon the palpable sexual tension between them until it resembled Burj Khalifa in magnitude and sheer audacity. Quinn both adored and despised Mikkel's restraint, but his ambivalence was outweighed by his sense of intrigue. Never had Quinn entertained a man such as Mikkel Ostergaard.<br/><br/>The sound of a word as abrupt and abrasive as "cock" falling from the surgeon's dignified mouth sent shivers down Quinn's spine and made the already painfully erect member between his legs pulse with need. The doctor probably wasn't wrong. While Quinn had enjoyed his share of lovers, it had been a cold, solitary existence for some months at least, maybe close to the better part of a year due to Quinn's absurdly high standards. Few men stoked the fire of his libido quite like Mikkel, and Quinn was eager to show the doctor just that.<br/><br/>Reaching down between his legs, long, lean arm cutting down across his torso, Quinn wrapped his pianist's fingers firmly around Mikkel's wrist. "Why surmise when you can discover for yourself?" Quinn purred, putting pressure on the man's arm and pulling it toward him, piercing himself on sleek fingers. The artist tossed his head back, dark hair cascading down the tops of his shoulders as muscle instinctively tightened around exploring digits. He sighed romantically, lips parted as he wiggled his narrow hips, grinding himself on Mikkel's fingers. Quinn had no issue taking his pleasure where he could, enjoying this sexual chess between them. Every time Mikkel moved, the younger man would find a way to counter, and hopefully the doctor would love the game just as much as Quinn did.