[Since he's so fond of earning reactions, he'll surely delight in the way she stiffens and squirms and scowls each time he teasingly threatens to rip the delicate fabric. It isn't overt or obvious, but he gets a response, and that's more than most men have managed.

It's worth it, though, for the way his fingers trace over the curve of her leg. He kisses her, and there's nothing reverent or gentle about it, but still she shivers in response, her toes curling. It's such a reversal from the rough way he'd handled her before, and the whiplash leaves her blinking.

But then he's done, and Rosalind retracts her leg, reclining back on the bed instead.]

It depends on what would please you most. I've a good sense of you, but not enough, not yet. What kind of man are you?

[Because for all she's eager to deprive him, she won't go back on her word. She slips a hand down, sliding her fingers almost idly against herself. She isn't nearly ready to get off again, but there's no harm in the way she pushes her fingers against her cunt, teasing over her entrance and leaving her fingers dripping wet.]

You were so eager to assert the fact you finish wherever you like . . . you might come on me. I won't be stupid enough to make a joke about marking your territory, but you would be the first here to do such a thing. Is that the sort of thing that gets you off?

Mm. I might suggest you watch me take something, but we'll have to save that for next time.

[Not only because she has none of her things here, but because there's no way in hell Rosalind Lutece is going to walk into a sex shop. Robert had done it before; Bigby can do it now if that's something he wants to see. But mm . . . her smile stutters, her eyes going hooded as she keeps moving her fingers.]

Perhaps I'll just say please. Just the once, just for you.