Oh, alright. Sweeney thinks he figured out where the misunderstanding was; she's going to dance, then they'll bathe, not that she'll dance and then he will also. That leaves him more confident. Enough that he's willing to slide back to a touch of wickedness.

"Oh, you please me," he assures her with a grind. She's so deliciously warm.

"Good wife." Sweeney leans in to kiss her, then lingers near her lips when he whispers.

"My very good wife."