Oh, he is wonderful at this. Kissing - everything else, too. She feels like she did when they ventured down into the Underdark but a few weeks ago, and she cast Feather Fall on everyone so they would land safely. Kissing Astarion, held in place between the solid wall and his solid body, feels a lot like falling did with that spell, a sort of continuous floating.

Pleasure floods every sense, everywhere he touches. Her hands roam up his chest and stay on his shoulders for balance, but Astarion is bolder with his touches and she loves it. It feels like an eternity since she last had any sort of pleasure of this persuasion, and not for lack of interest in the physical.

It's easy to forget about the tadpoles, the guardian in her dreams, the shadows creeping in - it's easy to forget about a lot, as he works her robes open, as he touches her with no barrier left at all. She gasps, because of course she does, her little surprised moan silenced by a deepened kiss. Her back arches, as she attempts to press herself against his touch, and to encourage him more she brings one hand down from his shoulder at a time to push her robes off her shoulders, and slip her arms out, not breaking the kiss while she does.