"A few," spoken around cryptic smile before leaning up and up and up to place a series of slow, lingering kisses along inner thigh, then jut of a hipbone, across belly normally taut as a sail in a stiff north Atlantic breeze now rippling with pleasure at so much careful scrutiny. A precise peppering to willing flesh because sometimes it was infinitely better to draw out the seduction for as long as possible, Robb saved the very best for last - a playful, nudge-bump-’Come here often, gorgeous?’ of nose and lips to tip of prized English erection now standing at undeniably full attention.
Ruddy Queen's guard has nothing on him, Robb chuckled to himself; gleefully kid-in-a-candy-shop proud as ever to have landed such a lovely catch as tongue lazily swiped again and again across blushing cockhead. He'd outlast the lot of them!
"Brekkies in bed first." Lumberjack share of thick-cut rashers already fried and kept warm in the oven awaited Jon. Toast, too, along with favorite jam and a small bowl of fresh summer melons for essential sugar fix. Add gourmet coffee beans ground, pressed and on standby hot in the pot and their meal-taking would be easy peasy. Tea was an absolute must in their lives but one simply couldn't start the day of on the right foot without a proper cup of caffeinated joy.
Still grinning, still working his way along muscled expanse of midsection, he added an eternally cheeky, “But we’ll get to that in a minute," before nipping at pebbled pink bud.
As always, Robb had plans for latest interlude but he was quite prepared (and willing, mind you) to let everything unfold much more organically than in the past. Not so much need for strict adherence to a dozen different rules only he knew - and selfishly kept Jon in the dark throughout - was a rather… freeing notion after he’d given it some thought. So what if the scene didn’t exactly match the one playing out inside his head? If Jon was happy that meant, ultimately, he was happy.