Her eyes slipped shut at the feel of his fingers gliding up her hips over the fabric of the towel. The subtle deepening of his voice made his accent more noticeable and Saoirse found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to speak again. There was something so wonderfully alluring about his true accent and she did not want to miss a word of it. A second later she was reminded to breathe by his fingers digging into her hips, tugging her closer. She exhaled in a huffed sigh and lowered herself back into his lap again, resting her free hand on his shoulder.

"So, you are an artist as well, hm?" she hummed. A brief second was spared to consider if she wanted to push the final boundary in their relationship to the point of no return, but she could think of no reason to back off as she had in the past. She wanted this, wanted him, and if his words were anything to judge by he was ready to cross that unspoken line as well. Smiling at him she purposely shifted in his lap, slowly grinding against him as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "A Prince, a knight, a healer and now a painter. Such a Renaissance man."