The hand against her back felt so, good that for a moment Arran didn't want it to move; just takin the moment to give her breasts another squeeze. The deep voice was familiar but the transformed apprentice couldn't recognise from where. She lazily turned her head to see who it was, biting her bottom lip at the same time to stop another moan - entirely unaware that it sent out an entirely different wanton look. It was the man...the man with the silver, her mind told her. She remember being revolted by him. The memory doing enough for her to take one step away from him his hand.