The ridiculousness of her words got the exact reaction she had hoped for and Navia’s grin widened as Théadan laughed. She always liked it when he found her funny, likely just as much as he did when he got a similar reaction from her, but it was always a bit sweeter when it was because she was teasing him. Though he did point out he had convinced her into finally beginning their lovemaking, Théadan took no responsibility for anything else and claimed to have no choice but to keep going when the cook appeared, and Navia’s grin turned into a scoff. She could hardly think of anything Théadan was innocent of when it came to their lusts for each other. But she was willing to let such a transgression slide when a juicier detail was possibly coming to fruition.<br/><br/>Théadan played up his innocence though, even looking up toward the ceiling and denying having any knowledge of the word she was trying to get from him. It made her chuckle and watch, amused by his antics and content to continue lean against him. It also gave her the chance to enjoy the view laid out before her. His hair was mussed from her hands, reminding her that hers might be as well from his own hold, the hair at his temples a bit damp with sweat. She could feel the heat as well, the dress was thick and their efforts had been harried. Content to let Théadan continue with his façade, Navia entertained herself by bringing her unoccupied hair down from his hair to smooth along his jaw, enjoying the friction of stubbly beard against her palm. And she likely would have been distracted by that enough to forget she’d been trying to pull a curse from her lover, but Théadan looked back to her with a devilish grin.<br/><br/>Her lips formed a neat little O of shock when Théadan mocked her and she gave his shoulder a shove. She couldn’t keep up the fake offense though, and shook her head with a grin. “You are incorrigible,” Navia sighed, voice feigning disappointment, “Always playing the innocent. You were<i>not</i>silent and you know it! I also don’t sound like that!” She paused, sitting up primly and pushing her dark hair over her shoulders, leaving her shoulders bare, “And I was only trying to warn you I couldn’t stop. I wanted you so badly, I wouldn’t stop and was willing to risk my integrity as a duchess for you. Yet here you sit, still deep inside me, clearly pleased with my efforts, and making fun of me! Let's not forget what your hand was doing the entire time!” She was not at all actually offended, was not fishing for apologize or sweet gestures, and she certainly didn't want him thinking his hand hadn't been in the best place to bring her pleasure. Navia only wanted Théadan to take pause long enough for her to turn the tables.<br/><br/>Her next actions came abruptly. The aftermath of having such a powerful climax had relaxed and tired them both, but Navia mustered the strength to retaliate. Hands pushed his shoulders back against the crates and she rose to look down at Théadan much like she had done when making love to him. Hips rose, his length was withdrawn from her about halfway, and Navia resisted the urge to tell him how she missed him. Alternatively, she took his face in her hands and tipped back so he had to look up at her. Her dark eyes searched his mischievous green ones until she leaned down and nearly kissed him with the absolute briefest of brushes. “Tell me, Théadan,” she whispered, hips adjusting to let her hips slowly begin to descend again. She put no effort into the movement, relying purely on gravity, and Théadan began to fill her all over again. She said nothing until the tip of his spent length was pushed up on her cervix and only then, Navia locked gazes with her lover, “What word?”