She plays with his hair and he luxuriates in it, like a great cat savoring the scratching behind his ears and above the nape of his neck. He hums delightedly, small dancing shivers creeping across him under the attention. He nearly misses her correction--

"Ah, so they do not know?" Jaskier teases. "What a clever and generous woman, hiding such a secret from the world and allowing me to partake."

He lets his hands roam idly, petting down her sides and smoothing over her hips, the plushness of her thighs, her buttocks. His smile is self-satisfied and nearly smug. He doesn't rock his hips against her but he does want to--his halfmast morning erection can be ignored but, the longer he indulges and the more she pets his hair, the less halfmast it will be.

"Do you have anywhere to be this morning?" He asks, none too subtly.