A truly skilled individual can lend the thrill of the erotic to kissing even innocuous parts of the body. The wrist, for example: not an erogenous zone. Well, not traditionally. He once did sleep with a Polian who he'd reduced to a quivering wreck with nothing more than a hand massage...Fine memory, that.

Regardless, for most people, the wrist is not so intensely erotic - but if you treat it right, you can make them shiver. It has to do with timing, the precise length of each pause as you touch, press, meet their eyes, dip your head. It has to do with the exact pressure on their wrist. It has to do with the intensity of your own gaze as you meet theirs, the way your fingertips find beneath their glove in the split second before you lower your eyelashes. It has to do with ensuring there's just enough gap between glove and sleeve that they can feel, faintly, the butterfly-soft touch of the skin of your lips. And it has to do with the withdrawal - with the way you look at them after, the blend of admiration and longing and appreciation with which you meet their eyes.

"Milady," he murmurs, waiting to see if he's timed everything perfectly enough that she'll shiver bodily, or whether being unbathed and ungroomed has reduced his power.