"How do you want me?"
"I… I beg your pardon?"
Margeary rolled her eyes. "How," she drawled out slowly. "Do you want me?" Each word accentuated, given pause, her brows lifted only slightly as she peered up at him.
Alistair swallowed, staring down at her in surprise. Still processing the request. No, demand. Even as she offered herself, she was still undoubtedly in charge of the situation.
"I suppose," he began, slowly. "Uh, on… the bed?"
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, walking over to the bed and hopping up. She then looked back at him expectantly.
He blinked, hesitated, then followed after her like a lost puppy. Without his prompt, she slid the silk of her borrowed robe down one shoulder and then the next. Alistair could feel his pulse beginning to race, the blood rushing from his head as he watched her slowly undress herself. She'd climbed up onto her knees, the soft skin of her chest slowly being revealed as she snaked the over-sized robe down.
Margeary beckoned him closer with the crook of one finger and he obliged, his gaze transfixed on her slender body as more fabric was pulled away. He noted, rather quickly, that she wore not a thing under the robe. No shift, no smalls, not a single thing under it except her dazzling body.
He licked his lips in anticipation, slowly beginning to undress himself. He continued to watch her, a few awkward hops and jerks as he lost track of his own movements in the process. Only a light huff, the barest hint of a smile gave away Margeary's amusement at his predicament.
"I'm really… not very good at this." Not that it was news.
"Have you heard me complain?" she asked, plainly.
He shook his head, a grin now forming on his lips. He all but tackled her down to the bed, grinning as he pinned her arms up over her head and kissed at the corners of her mouth and along her jawline. She sighed, shifting only to make her position a tad more comfortable as Alistair set to work exploring every bit of her body with his mouth.