The weight of Percy's gaze is palpable, heavy and heady. It goes straight to the part of her that longs for approval, to be special. She doesn't interrogate too closely how intoxicating that is, or how it soothes an ache in her that never quite goes away. In the moment, at least, she's beautiful and she's powerful and he wants her enough to risk being caught in a public place.

As stuffy and clearly well bred as Percival de Rolo is, the fact she doubts he's the kind of man to forget himself so easily, it's more flattering than he probably knows.

And it only encourages her as she explores him. She's not shy about it, feeling his length, stroking down it, and further still to cup his balls. It's not all pretext. She's sure that his more intimate areas need the attention as much or more than his shoulders or his chest did. That doesn't mean she doesn't exploit the excuse for all it's worth.

Vex is rather proud of her ability to multitask.