The way that command was voiced, quiet but no less insistent, banished whatever absolutely idiotic thought of disagreement might have danced through Phoenix's mind otherwise. A brief thrill, all breathless anticipation, sparked down toward the root of his spine at the unspoken implications. Putting back an elbow, he let himself sink back to the bed, breaking from the kiss long enough to settle back comfortably.

"You're sure?" was the closest he came to a protest, whispered uncertainly as he reached to undo the cravat a little more easily than the last time he'd tried. It wasn't as if he was helpless - a little drugged, sure, unsteady and prone to sudden uncontrollable headaches and vertigo and fits of moodiness without warning. But still.