She loved every moment of it when I pulled her onto my face. You want the details? You want to hear about how she collapsed into the bed, unable to hold herself up, and made me real glad I can hold my breath for so long?

[Ianthe growled under her breathe, squeezing the rapier tightly, and a villager darted out of her way.]

The fuck does her preferences matter anyway? She's not you. If you don't like it, that's fine. But help me understand why you don't like it, cause it feels really fucking shitty to find out you'd rather just rub one out by yourself than fuck me.

[That's not what she said, but it's what Ianthe took from it.]