He'd been rather enjoying her mouth of his neck, his skin tingling, his breath catching in his throat. It sent the lyrium afire but he didn't care. Her touch was dizzying, intoxicating, and he didn't it to stop.

So when it does stop, he lets out an almost comical whine, following her a little, before his brain catches up with the rest of him, realising she's speaking to him. He lets out a low, rumbling chuckle.

"That is very true," a smirk plays across his lips, trying to put her at ease, letting her know he was in the moment, too. "We'd best deal with that sharply, hadn't we?"