Her question gets only a subtle smirk in reply, one that bites off a hiss of frustrated pleasure as her hand falls against the throb in his cock. Sliding his hands down the length of her front, sword-rough fingertips grazing along the trembling skin of her belly, he finds a grip on the underside of her thighs and gives a rough tug.

He pulls her hips up to meet him, rough hairs on his chin brushing the sensitive skin where her thigh meets the join of her body.

"You should do me a favor and turn that water off," he says, "Or we're going to end up making a mess soon enough."

He breathes her in, smelling like soap and a woman, and takes her in with low-lidded eyes, hidden beneath dark lashes. She'll get there before he does, or he hasn't been taught well enough otherwise. Tongue darting out, he traces a slow line along the folds between her legs with cat-like satisfaction, curling around the slick pink nub between them when it's found.