The King was lost in her, from what she could tell from his ecstasy lidded eyes. Genevieve's hands shook as she untied his nightwear. She pulled upon it, his clothing sliding down his shoulders, exposing them to her. The shadows that danced from the fires only accentuated his toned chest, the muscles of his shoulders, the strength of his forearms. Genevieve as her hands ran from his chest, over his shoulders, and came to rest in his hands, their fingers intertwined as the King spoke.<br/><br/>A smile pulled at her lips, her cheeks flush under the glow of the fireplace. "It's only been 4 days." She giggled. How was it he made her do that?? Giggle like a lovesick village girl. "Can we really call it love?" She brought one of his hands to her lips and began kissing the knuckles one at a time. Of course they could. She had never felt anything so strong for anyone. Still, Genevieve was reluctant to call it<span style="font-style: italic">love</span>. Her past had made her hesitant. She wanted to be absolutely sure.<br/><br/>Finishing the last knuckle, Genevieve moved to his fingers, kissing the joints in them one at a time. "I..." Genevieve averted her gaze, her face, neck, and shoulders reddening. "I like the way you look." A nervous giggle. "I'm sorry, I just.. I've never done this before." To keep herself from babbling even more, Genevieve leaned in and kissed him on the lips. A bit harder than she intended too. She let go of his hands and entwined her fingers into his hair while...crawling into his lap, or practically into his lap. Genevieve sat close, leaning into his frame. He felt so..solid against her. Like a flesh covered brick wall. What skin that wasn't in direct contact with Motto had prickled in the night air.