He grinned, dropping his lips to the dip of her neck just below her ear as his hand slipped inward, around the smooth skin of her thigh. Montague ignored her words, more interested in making her forgot those words altogether instead.
"Mmhm..." he rippled against the skin, lips still pressing soft kisses along the pale skin, his hand having to stop its exploration due to angles. "We could always move to the East Wing..." he muttered against the skin, smirking, letting his thumb brush the rested skin beneath the pad on her thigh.