The sound that he lets slip from his mouth - a sharp exhalation that is nearly a squeak, a whine, and a shout rolled into one - when he pictures that should be evidence enough.

"Would keep me from touching you before you'd finished the dance, for once," he says - voice breaking a little, rough with want. "Gods, love, if you did that, you might have to ensure that spell to keep me upright was well-placed, because I would not be able to stand for long watching you with how hard I would come."

Laughing. "Would make a hell of a mess, but I'm sure you'd help me clean up."