He indicates a pout he doesn't mean. "Ah, but you won't ever show me, will you?" A put upon sigh, hand to the heart and dramatically rolling his eyes is followed by a smirk. "Too bad."

That he prefers the dark seduction that is none is no secret.

"I will." For the sake of the controversy and the conversation, her little outraged bouts and what she'd do to Cesare at retribution. "I mean it," he laughs, getting drunk on the adrenaline of a boyish thrill.

He snorts. "Good luck with that." But even then his feet catch up with Cesare's strides, matching his, hands in the pocket of his jeans. His body is still smarting from the beating, but it's coalescing into that aroused ache that is neither clearly pain nor pleasure, already.