[if he'd ever had a prayer of resisting her, there would be none left now. Gently taking the bottle from her and reluctantly removing his hand for now, he pours a few drops of oil into one palm and then rubs his hands together to warm them.]
[He'll start with her shoulders, on the outside and working his way slowly to toward her neck, fingers working the oil into her skin with slow, deliberate circling.]
I thought it would suit you well. [he leans forward, inhaling deeply, taking in her alluring scent.] It would seem I was correct.