The sounds she makes spur him on. They sound genuine, especially with the way she leans into his touch, and he relies on them to guide his hands further. It's a basic truth of tinkering, and apparently of women (or at least Vex'ahlia): Build from one success to the next, until the full shape of something is clear.
In this case, what he finds by the end is that he's not the only one easily seduced by an empty room and another person's presence. (The right room, the right person, the right context - but that's likely true for anyone, isn't it?) The time he takes with her causes a change, even if he can't yet put it into words. She already seemed relaxed to him, entirely at ease in their surroundings, so it isn't that. Something about her simply feels more to him.
When he's satisfied that her hair is clean and tangle-free, he turns his focus to her ears: running his thumbs along her scalp behind them, and then along the back of them, up to the tips. He's careful not to get soap or water into them, but he's not shy about including the long shell of them in his attentions. After that, sweeping her hair to the side and running a hand over the back of her neck - and in a moment of true daring, soaping her shoulders and collarbone, his palm skimming just above the swell of her breasts. It's the closest he's come to embracing anyone in years; he has to force himself not to stop when he reaches the front of her far shoulder, tempted as he is to let his hand settle there, with his forearm caging her against him.
no subject
In this case, what he finds by the end is that he's not the only one easily seduced by an empty room and another person's presence. (The right room, the right person, the right context - but that's likely true for anyone, isn't it?) The time he takes with her causes a change, even if he can't yet put it into words. She already seemed relaxed to him, entirely at ease in their surroundings, so it isn't that. Something about her simply feels more to him.
When he's satisfied that her hair is clean and tangle-free, he turns his focus to her ears: running his thumbs along her scalp behind them, and then along the back of them, up to the tips. He's careful not to get soap or water into them, but he's not shy about including the long shell of them in his attentions. After that, sweeping her hair to the side and running a hand over the back of her neck - and in a moment of true daring, soaping her shoulders and collarbone, his palm skimming just above the swell of her breasts. It's the closest he's come to embracing anyone in years; he has to force himself not to stop when he reaches the front of her far shoulder, tempted as he is to let his hand settle there, with his forearm caging her against him.