He wasn't surprised, to say the least. Noel had always proven a proverbial thorn in his side whenever he actually wanted to do something, and he shouldn't have expected this time to be any different. The only difference between now and then was that it was so damn easy to make her want this, to stroke a finger over her cheek and gaze into those wide blue eyes, to whisper lover's promises against the warmth of her flesh.

"Don't worry," he lied against her cheek. "Everything will be okay." He slid a gloved hand over her adorably plump thigh and squeezed hard enough to leave imprints with her fingers. Maneuvering it a fraction wider, he pressed himself against her, chest to chest, buckle scraping over her lower half in a way that was meant to be more assertive than arousing. He knew she wouldn't get hot just from this. She was too naive for that, after all. So he left it up to the pads of his fingers, the press of his lips, each movement carefully orchestrated to seduce rather than to control. Though, really, he thought with a sort of giddy delight, in this situation they were practically one in the same.

"Why don't you go ahead and tell me what you have done?" That way he knew what to work toward... or away from. "You know... So I have something to go on." His lips found their way to the spot just under her ear and he grazed the column of her lovely neck with his teeth.

If he wasn't careful, this could turn into a guilty pleasure he would have an insatiable appetite for. It was the equivalent to messing around with an inanimate object, but still -- he was never one to deny himself any sort of pleasure. He practically thrived on feeling good, after all.

"Go ahead, Noel." His murmur was more a low hum against her. It was barely audible to be heard beyond the door. "Tell me what you want."