It was little moments such as this that he prided himself on, being able to make her squirm, to tremble, to wet her panties simply with his eyes, with the sound of his voice or the touch of his hand upon her heated skin. He tried to resist the growing temptation to toss his head back with a wicked laugh every time he noticed a change in her manner. "Above your waist, eh? Does that mean it's simply another 'tramp stamp' as you girls call it?" Yet another amused chuckle escaped him. Even though he didn't make a remark about her being so sturdy, the gears were already starting to turn in his head of all the ways he could push her to her limits. He didn't want to put his precious Lennox's life in danger, but at the same time...he was oddly intrigued by how she would respond to his treatments.
His gaze danced with wickedness, smiling inwardly when he noticed how overcome with arousal, how taken by him she was once more. He arched a skeptical brow at her reply. "Maybe?" He shook his head. "I venture I'm right." Before she had a chance to react, he pressed two fingers flush against the wet crotch of her panties, right over her slit. "Hmm...yes," his fingers curled against her clit, then flattened, curled, then flattened before rubbing her deeply through that spot, "it's a bit wet down here. What's going on in that little flower?"