When he lets himself look back up, it's with a frown on his reddened face. Being lectured on the benefits of acting well, when doing so makes up the better part of his job... Saralegui lifted his chin, neck arching against Tzilan's cool fingers, expression almost petulant.

"A brothel isn't the place to come in lying about what you want," he said, shifting slightly to resituate himself, trying to regain a bit of dignity. "Not everyone here handles being pushed around well."

The attempt at posturing was somewhat spoiled by his involuntary shiver, whispered words against the shell of his ear so delicate he felt the vibration of it more than any warmth or breath. As if to counter it, he caught at the back of his guest's shirt, finding the hem once more and only briefly toying with it before sliding his hand up underneath over still surprisingly cool skin. All this, and his customer still didn't seem worked up in the least. It hardly seemed fair.