[She scoffs as he leans over, but she's too tired to be anything but amused by it. At least he'll get a reward for his efforts: he can absolutely get a glance of the curve of her ass, though it only lasts for a few seconds. Then she's turning, facing him properly.]
And here you were supposed to tell me that you adored it. A compliment isn't impossible for you, Bigby, despite what you might want others to think.
[She's exhausted, their fuck having taken out the last bits of her stamina, but it's still hard not to be tempted by the way he looks right now. He isn't the only one staring; Rosalind eyes the lines of his hips, her gaze pointed, before turning away.
She sits on the bed. It's not quite as soft as the bed she has back in Olympia, and the sheets certainly aren't the ridiculously high thread count she insists upon, but after two days? She'd happily sleep on the floor. Anything even remotely soft is worth a great deal, and Rosalind sighs as she tucks her legs beneath her.
Her hands go behind her head, and she starts tying her hair into a neat braid.]
At least if nothing else, I shan't freeze tonight. Has anyone ever told you you're a furnace?
[That might be a problem come summer, but at least in winter, she'll take advantage of that without shame. She isn't particularly eager to cuddle with him, but she is eager not to spend another night cold, so. And speaking of chills . . . it's not that he doesn't have heat in this room, but she could also stand if he came over right now, because it's rather cold when you're still damp.]
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And here you were supposed to tell me that you adored it. A compliment isn't impossible for you, Bigby, despite what you might want others to think.
[She's exhausted, their fuck having taken out the last bits of her stamina, but it's still hard not to be tempted by the way he looks right now. He isn't the only one staring; Rosalind eyes the lines of his hips, her gaze pointed, before turning away.
She sits on the bed. It's not quite as soft as the bed she has back in Olympia, and the sheets certainly aren't the ridiculously high thread count she insists upon, but after two days? She'd happily sleep on the floor. Anything even remotely soft is worth a great deal, and Rosalind sighs as she tucks her legs beneath her.
Her hands go behind her head, and she starts tying her hair into a neat braid.]
At least if nothing else, I shan't freeze tonight. Has anyone ever told you you're a furnace?
[That might be a problem come summer, but at least in winter, she'll take advantage of that without shame. She isn't particularly eager to cuddle with him, but she is eager not to spend another night cold, so. And speaking of chills . . . it's not that he doesn't have heat in this room, but she could also stand if he came over right now, because it's rather cold when you're still damp.]