Lon paused, taking a moment to just look at Joli, his eyes sliding along smooth skin teasingly concealed beneath the translucent shirt, the fire behind her leaving nothing but color and texture to the imagination as bold shadow defined shape within an aura of dancing orange, of fire muted by white cloth. He blinked, realized he was holding his breath, and let it go, mouth suddenly dry, and breeches suddenly entirely too tight. "Yes," he said decisively. "Just like that." He tried to smile charmingly, disarmingly, and failed; and he knew he'd failed when his eyes disobeyed, and continued roaming her body, drinking her in as if starving, famished, and she was the spring of life. As she stepped closer his hand rose, of its own accord, tentatively, as if afraid that the cloth might burn him, as if she were a smoldering coal waiting to burst into flames, but it pressed forward, and his fingers slid against her, along the smooth curve of her hip, dragging the soft cloth of her shift with it as it explored.<br/><br/>Her hands slid along his chest, pale hand stark against the blood red silk, and he shivered slightly as her hand grazed his nipple. His eyes finally rose, met hers, and he smiled softly, a mixture of desire and anticipation dancing across his face. "Well, these clothes have got to go," he said, but his hand seemed reluctant to leave her, instead fleeing down and across her back, eventually stopping on the swell of her ass, a respite both for rest and further exploration and delight. His other hand, unoccupied, reached up slowly, and pulled loose the red cord holding the neck shut, making room for the garment to slip over his head, and join the pile of clothing growing on the floor. His other hand became sick of barriers, and dipped, slipped below the hem of the shirt, and slid up bare thigh back to its former resting place to resume its activities behind her.<br/><br/>He glanced at Laurin and Balfor. They seemed well suited to each other; imposing and powerful, each in a distinctive way, and he smiled faintly as they ground together, using friction to ignite fires that would not be quenched for some time. For once he was glad of his half-elven heritage; although it had its disadvantages, the unique mixture of stamina and grace it afforded would allow him to enjoy the evening properly. He looked back down at Joli again, but spoke loudly enough for the others to hear him. "I don't believe there is any reason to stay so far away, is there?" He looked back up at Balfor and Laurin. "Why don't you spread some blankets on the floor, for all of us? I'm hoping Joli is going to help me catch up to the rest of you." Reluctantly, he let his hand slip from beneath the shirt, a parting squeeze goodbye promising a swift return, and raised both hands, each with a fistful of shirt, exposing a rather smooth expanse of lean muscular chest, marked only with a light dusting of fine black hair trailing down along breast bone past belly button, eventually disappearing into the tight black leather pants cinched around his waist.