Huh. He was kissing her ; or rather they were kissing because, whilst half her body felt utterly boneless, she still had control over her lips and was engaging in using them in a very pleasing slide of her lips against his.
She hummed softly against his lips before running her tongue against the seam to deepen the kiss as his hand travelled to sit at the curve above the waistband of her jeans.
Kissing Orsino was like drinking really good whisky ; it was slow, gentle, pleasant and whilst there was a tinge of alchol, there was a hint of something much more intruiging. Just like a very good bottle of whisky.
The floor was doing a very good job of holding her up and she was confident in its ability to continue to do so, that she took her free hand to tangle gently in the hair at the back of his neck.