There is some part of the fae, surely, that remains entirely aware that it is hardly him with whom she might so desire to dance in this fashion. Indeed Dorian is assured her thoughts here and now linger upon an entirely different individual and yet was it not this very reaction he had so sought to coax from her? To show her exactly how dancing might be a truly sensual experience if only utilised in just the right way? That such actions might inspire her thoughts towards the man she desired were hardly displeasing to him, no, it is merely his goal here and now to teach her how to use such an age-old activity to perhaps further her own needs one day. Surely men in this day and age still knew how to dance! Her lover, surely, would be capable of offering her just this and perhaps with his guidance she might, one day, be able to meet him as an equal on the dance floor. Had Dorian been at all aware that Tetradore danced possibly worse then Samantha he would surely have been far to horrified to continue until Aiden too- had been dragged before him for a lesson. For now at least he attention remained focused upon her.

It was all-too easy to guide the woman so effortlessly about the floor, slowing or increasing both the tempo and rhythm as needed, allowing his hands to press or guide , bringing her closer every now and then to let her form brush against his own in a way that hinted at much and yet said decidedly little. Dancing after all, was an art, a perfectly exceptional art that was wasted more often than not on those whom had no idea how to employ it correctly. If Samantha learned nothing but this from him then perhaps he would find some contentment in it. She was positively hopeless at everything else. He brings her so effortlessly to a halt, lips softly brushing the side of her cheek in a moment of affection- her earlier irritation at him having vanished and truly the Fae King has no desire to remind her of it. Her cheeks flushing a sudden shade of red. Ah, but how many times has he seen such a thing as that upon a woman! It lacked no appeal to him, even now, her question however, seemed to prompt a look of confusion to taint his features once more. The answer surely obvious to him and yet that she had asked it at all suggested that once more modern custom had changed.

"A man who cannot dance, simply does not, though if society now permits such a thing then I shall inform you of a decided secret, if you should care to hear it?"

There is something almost flirtatious to his words, a distinct tease resting within them as a simper of sorts adorns his features, arms folding easily across his chest as he moves to lean back against the arm of the sofa once more.

"We men, we are, very easy to seduce. You need only bring yourself close enough to the man you desire to dance with to entice him, press against him once or twice, draw him to you and you will find he will follow you. Any man will dance- for the promise of the right woman."

His own thoughts drift, if ever so slightly, back to her earlier words. Had times changed truly so much that men and men and women and women was perhaps a permissible thing? Frowned upon, maybe and yet hardly the criminal offense it had been. Such considerations were something to be thought on later perhaps- the man removing them from his mind for now. Attention returned in full to Samantha.

"Did you desire to practice our dining manners now, or would you rather leave it for another time? I might be persuaded to sit with you upon the couch and watch the picture box play another of the....how you say? Movies? You like to watch."

He had already sat through Ten Things I Hate About You, The Notebook and Love Actually- he is assured he could survive nearly anything else she might throw at him despite his inability to understand it and yet- she had tried to understand his activities and in turn he supposed he could try to understand hers.

Dorian Aragona