Her response only made him smile wider. Aurin allowed for another drink, having grown quickly accustomed to slaves at his beck and call. And it was only a matter of time before she got him out onto the dance floor, although he wasn't entirely sure the line she gave him to get him out there wasn't asking whether he had a foot fetish. Perhaps they would find out later.
They danced, they drank, and they even found quiet nooks to talk from time to time; it lasted for hours. He was somewhat of a gentleman, though, which might have been a surprise. His hands and lips gave her plenty of time to consent or not, and while he pushed a bit, he didn't push past what she allowed. That might have been part of what dragged things out until finally, he wobbled a bit on his feet.
He was certain he could rally if she wanted to fuck, but he would have been equally happy passing out with her only to wake up for well-rested morning sex before breaking their fast. The skillful sembler didn't push that thought past her will, but he did plant it into her mind as an option.
If she just wanted to find a dark corner and get it over with, that was fine by him. Mists, if she wanted to get plowed on the dance floor, it wouldn't be his first time at that sort of rodeo. She had heard him call himself a bad man; while he was up to get down and do bad things, he did seem to have his own sort of honor code. And so, when a moment suspended where they would have to decide whether to do something or call it quits, he merely held her gaze, a ginger brow rising like the wing of a bird.
The decision was in her pretty hands, which, he thought, would look even prettier wrapped around his cock.