A spark lit up in his eyes. "Truly?" he asked. "'Tis not something I would ever request, but it seems so..."

Now it was his turn to grope for words, to try to explain why something was attractive.

"...Like I am leaving you a mess," he said, finally. "Like pouring wine on a work of art. The thrill of the forbidden, almost?"

None of that was quite right, but from the state of his trousers, he was liking the idea.