He stared up at her intently, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what sort of tutelage will that be?"

She cackled again, delighted with him. "That will depend on what needs the most practice, won't it?" She dropped both hands on the arms of his chair, pinning him in, then leaned close enough to breath down the side of his neck. "Silly boy," she whispered.

He shivered, and rolled his shoulders back. "And why am I so silly?" he asked, reaching a hand up to catch at her bodice, tugging her forward, lightly.

With a flick of her hand, she locked down on his wrist, drew it upward, and sucked a finger into her mouth. Delicately she lowered herself to one knee. "Because I was being completely serious about tutoring you. No innuendo."

He shut his eyes, his lashes fluttering, and he drew his finger from her mouth, running it down her chin and along her neck. "It sounded like innuendo," he said honestly. "Especially with the way you were stretching yourself out like a banquet."

She rolled her eyes as she pushed up the front of his shirt. "Oh, you and your food." Her lips pressed, soft and warm, against his stomach. "You are the banquet."

He purred softly and reached forward to twine his hands in her hair, then chuckled. "I know how that works, then," he teased. "You pick at your plate, say you're not really hungry, and then mock me for shoveling everything in sight into my mouth."

She raised her head briefly, with a small, crafty smile. "See, now I'm not sure that was an innuendo. We are going to have to clarify." Her fingertips hooked under his belt.

He grinned, and let a hand drop to stroke her breast. "It wasn't," he answered. "I was just teasing you. Not that I would stop you from being direct," he added, as he unthreaded his belt with his other hand. "It might be better. I'm not sure if this is supper or a tutoring session."

"Neither," she said, "or you can call it motivation for either if you like." Both her hands ran up the outsides of his legs. Suddenly she began to giggle helplessly. "We are hopeless."