He was leaning on the counter, on his elbows, as you sat across from him on a barstool. He wore a cheshire cat grin, all teeth and mischief. He knew you already, read you like a book from the moment you'd entered his apartment. But, he'd rather be safe than sorry, so he asks a question anyways.

Any.. hard limits that I should know about? He asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes were hooded, glazed over, slowly raising a glass of water to his lips.