Very, very deliberately, she lowers her voice to a sensual purr, batting her eyelashes and reaching out to trail one hand down his bare arm. “Why, Percival, what kind of woman do you think I am? I would /never/ take advantage of you. You’ll come /willingly/.”
Percival freezes momentarily, followed by an involuntary shudder. “Well, um, th- that was never really the issue…”
She circles around behind him, still trailing those fingertips, having to work hard to suppress the giggles. “Then what’s the issue?” she purrs. A slow smile curls her mouth, and she’s broadcasting sensuality.