He suffers through the lazy application of paste to both of her legs, tugging her chemise up to get at the tops of her thighs and reaching underneath it to apply where she knows she's probably going to be exposed later, swimming—

and then she rolls up onto her knees, walking her hands over closer to him so she can press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in a way that would probably feel a lot more chaste under any other circumstances than these ones. From the thoughtful, sly expression on her face, she's holding him to that Rivain thing, but:

“I'll make it up to you later.”