One of her hands left his own to cradle the back of his head and sink into the short hairs at the base of his skull. It was her intimate impulses with him that caught her off guard most. Thoughts of him could make her ravenous, but it was the little touches that did the most injury to her better senses. She knew what his hair felt like; she knew how adorably mussed it looked in the morning light and how it further endeared him to her. She was certain he could feel her heartbeat beneath his lips, knew what he did to her when he teased at her throat. She wondered if the mingled scents of them were as intoxicating to him as it was for her. She was recent enough from her last bath, she could still catch the black orchid and amber spice of her own perfume blending with the smoky tobacco and warmth of him. Tonight, she caught orange blossom and perhaps a hint of rose over the base notes that were his alone. It made her think of oriental spice markets and exotic summers; made her wonder if her imagination did the real thing any credit and if he'd ever encountered such places in his travels. There was so much she didn't know of his world and so much she wanted to ask.

She resisted the urge to press into him but led their joined hand to her hip before unlacing their fingers. They had to talk before she inevitably led him to bed, but she enjoyed his touch too much to separate from him; especially when a good part of her doubted he would come to her tonight. She couldn't help a chuckle at his question, though. "Do you doubt your powers of persuasion or my obedience?" She encouraged his continued kisses with a small hum of approval. "I am afraid there is little you can't command of me like this, Caro. Do be gentle with your power, I think it a rather unfair advantage of yours." Her tone teased, but the words were painfully spot on. She wasn't certain why, it went against the grain of her nature, but any ounce of control in his tone, any hit of powerplay did delightful things to her desire for him. It made little sense and vexed her if she focused too intently on the impacts of his words and the ridiculous things she'd imagined him saying to her in his most authoritative tones.

"Perhaps forgiveness is the wrong word," She offered him gently. She still hadn't settled on her best approach to her central concern. She was annoyed with his leaving her without a word for three days with only specters of some mystery lover to taunt her. She was angry with herself for caring at all, but it was more than that. The last time there had been any break in their communication, he'd lost three ships of his fleet. Had they not been corresponding, he could have been at sea when the damned Antonia and she wouldn't know his fate for weeks. There was so much wondering with this man, so much fear at the edges of her feelings. "Something went awry and not only can I not comfort you, but I do not know if I am the cause of your unease or if something worse had happened." She gave his short hairs a tiny tug, wanting his eyes back on hers. "I was worried about you." She finished solemnly.

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