Luneth's lower jaw quivered, like a man shivering, as he watched Rose slip off her shoes and side up onto the bed. His gray eyes followed her legs, and he seemed at any moment like he might salivate, his comment on the trimaran admiring her legs having been apparently no idle flattery. "Even if I feared for my life...I could scarce resist!" He'd kicked off his own shoes and, casting his jacket smoothly off his arms over the back of the captain's chair, he flung himself lightly upon the bed. Most of his body slid alongside hers, but part of his head and open-hanging skirt hovered above her, with one arm flung to her far side. His left hand slid up her calf, massaging along the way, and a soft groan escaped his lips once it traversed to her thigh, and pushed her skirt up a bit with it.<br/><br/>"Words fail me at this sight," he kissed her cheek, "It is fortunate I had other preoccupations in mind, for our lips alike." He kissed her upon the mouth again, briefly licking the inside of her upper lip as he had before. Slowly, though, he began to explore more and more with it, a making-out kiss, and no less roguishly did his hand come up to cup and caress her hip and then the outer curve of her breast. Though his limbs moved smoothly, there was an intensity in his core - the way he breathed and the way he held his weight on his own leg - as if having to restrain himself, like a man holding a heavy pitcher ever so carefully to pour it out at only a certain pace.