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There’s tongue, and then there’s tongue! the warden thought. She broke the kiss and smiled, trying to figure out how to break it to him that he was a terrible kisser.
“Alistair,” she sighs, smiling at him while trying to figure out how to wipe the edge of her mouth without being rude. “Would you like me to show you, the different kinds of kisses a tongue can do?”
He blushes.
“I did it wrong, didn’t I?” He’s rubbing his neck, nervous and embarrassed. “I asked Zevran-”
The warden squinted her eyes, “Zevran?” she asked, murder in her tone. That might explain the bit where he tried to swallow her nose and her lips when he moved in for the kill, as he murmured before kissing her.
“Yes, he offered tips-”
“I’m going to kill him.” She makes a fist, ice enveloping it.
“Maker!” Alistair nearly shouts, snapping her attention back to him. She dispels her hand sheepishly, smiling at him with a blush.
“Never mind,” she leans in, rubbing her nose against his slowly, her fingers pulling on the hem of his shirt to bring him closer, “my offer still stands, I can show you just exactly how I like to be kissed.”
He didn’t say no, in fact, all he heard was yes, from her lips, for the rest of the evening.