"I'll be sure to pass along your criticism," he replies, watching her move his hand like it might belong to someone else.
The only reason he refrains from saying something laughably stupid like 'you're so soft,' when she places his hand on her breast again is because he feels like he might have swallowed his tongue. She is soft, and warm through the silk of her nightgown, and he rubs his thumb wonderingly over the flesh in his hand as he tries desperately to look less poleaxed than he feels.
He is not ignorant of the anatomy of a woman, having been an excellent student both at the monastery and in the guard, but he is more used to looking at diagrams or the bodies of his fellow guardsmen, whom he can view with a far more detached, clinical air. After all, when one is practicing field medicine in the stress of a combat situation, it is rather irrelevant if the body beneath your hands has breasts or not.
This is wildly different, although his heart is racing just as much as if there were gauntlet fire screaming past his head.
no subject
The only reason he refrains from saying something laughably stupid like 'you're so soft,' when she places his hand on her breast again is because he feels like he might have swallowed his tongue. She is soft, and warm through the silk of her nightgown, and he rubs his thumb wonderingly over the flesh in his hand as he tries desperately to look less poleaxed than he feels.
He is not ignorant of the anatomy of a woman, having been an excellent student both at the monastery and in the guard, but he is more used to looking at diagrams or the bodies of his fellow guardsmen, whom he can view with a far more detached, clinical air. After all, when one is practicing field medicine in the stress of a combat situation, it is rather irrelevant if the body beneath your hands has breasts or not.
This is wildly different, although his heart is racing just as much as if there were gauntlet fire screaming past his head.