Hemingway definitely got pleasure out of her reaction, and even enjoyed that he'd made her drop the bottle in her surprise. Still, he looked down at it, and then back at her as if he disapproved, and it was just another thing she needed to be taught a lesson over - although he couldn't keep it up for long.
He took a sharp breath, knowing she was right. And that she knew she was right. There was no denying it, especially considering he was pressed up against her, his rough hands sliding up bare skin with a certain intensity. "I wouldn't," he confirmed between kisses. "I'm not that much of a masochist," he told her, cupping a breast.