She wasn't sure she entirely believed that - or at least no one had ever told her she looked delicate before. If she was a flower, she was an oleander; the sort of thing that would also poison someone if they didn't handle her correctly. But oh, he did. She knew that he was at no risk of breaking skin, but he may raise a few bruises if he kept at it. And she didn't mind. She felt fairly certain that she would be able to handle anything he gave her. There was little she could do, pinned beneath his teeth, except hold onto him and let the soft groans and murmurs resound off the tile. But there were no sounds of pain, no hint that he might be pushing her even remotely close to her limit yet.
Even though her skin was still stinging, she tried to pull him in again the moment he pulled away, as if it were instinct. She loosened her hold on him a bit, though, and tipped back to look at him, relying on the water and his arms to support her. "You have no idea how innocent I am not," she teased. She trailed one hand down, around the back of his neck, dancing along his collarbone before running the back of her fingers up his throat and tipping his chin up just a touch. It felt like the right time to push a little further. "Get out of the pool," she smirked, "what I want to do, I'm not doing under water."