She moves over to stand in front of him, and her hand slides up his chest, pressing against his mark. Merciless, the way he likes it.

"I think we already have, a little. We'll hurt him more." She glances over her shoulder. "If he stays. But I think he will." Turning back to him, she offers a cold, wry little smile. "I poked at his knightly pride, before I came in."

She traces a few of the dark lines from memory, through his clothes, eyes meeting his.

"We'll find out what makes him squirm, hmm?"