"So..." came a voice from behind you, the sound of polished boots clicking against the carpeted stone flooring. "It's all very nice, this flirting business. I am, however, not a nice man."

Dorian walked closer, acting as if he were in some sort of trade offer rather than a mutual pinning contest with the man in front of him. "So here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal." He reached up to toy with his mustache, arching a single brow upward in query.