Gyre smirks as Luka takes his time deciding, flipping the hem of his shirt up every few seconds as if to remind him what he's supposed to be thinking about. His other hand meanders over him, touching his arm, his neck for a moment, pressing fingertips against the bare skin under his shirt in teasing little brushes. He wants the princess to think about his hands on him.

The moment he makes his decision, Gyre moves to tug his shirt up and over his head, tossing it almost absentmindedly into one of the piles near the bed. He's caught for just a second there, remembering where they are, before he tugs his gaze back to Luka. It's a gaze that becomes this hungry stare almost immediately, looking him over. He loops his arms around his waist, hooking his fingers into the band of his pants and tugging their hips together suddenly.

"Well now I know what I'd prefer," he murmurs, leaning up to press a series of kiss from his jaw down his neck. "How about you?"