He has to understand the type of monster he has created in such a short amount of time. Knowing how her intentions have been all these years, surely he hadn't expected anything less than an unquenchable thirst on her behalf. Before she can launch an assault on his ear, he sets her down on the bed, and she wrinkles her nose up at him. Always playing hard to get, even after he's finally given in.

"I have a lot to do every day," She argues, almost childishly.

Isetriel quickly rolls to her side to face him, scooting as close as she's able across the silken sheets below them.

"Come now, Liaran. You've only had but a shred of what you know I have to offer. We have, what... Ten years to catch up on? There's fashionably late, and then there is, well..."

She laughs, "The foolishness that can only be named Liaran."

Reaching for his hand at her waist, she takes it by the palm, gently ushering it to the bottom of her towel. She lets his fingers graze the underside of its hem, across her thigh.

"I know you are hungry. To be honest, I skipped supper and am surely quite famished myself."