It is much more difficult to behave, though he manages somewhat as she strokes the cloth over his chest, cleans the sweat from his skin, sinks lower to wipe his belly clean.

"I bet he was surprised," Skellig laughs. And his own grin is sharp, a hint predatory as well - though it is mixed with other feelings, as her hands and that cloth graze the bottom of his stomach, getting closer to his hips. He rocks his feet slightly, his breath catching a little in his throat.

His heartrate quickens slightly, and he clears his throat.

"M'doing my best to not get too excited, love," he teases. "But if your hands wander much further south, I make no guarantees..."