Sheryl isn't the only one a tad frustrated. Despite how calm Slaine appears otherwise, blush and all, he manages to puff out an exasperated sigh. He loves her, really, but she can be quite the handful.

"All these steps for such a simple procedure? Honestly... I fail to see the appeal," he responds flatly with a tight knitting of his brows, maneuvering the rope around her abdomen and making a few extra loops before he turns around to do the same to the arms behind her back. There's a moment of relief in his expression; it means he won't be caught staring at her chest for too long because that'd be embarrassing. Except his throat feels suddenly dry, quickly swallowing a lump in his throat once his gaze lingers at the curves of her butt.

His girlfriend is a beautiful woman; she knows it and so does he. Slaine can't help it that he's still worried about potentially hurting her, though the last thing he wants is to exacerbate her ire any longer. And so once he wraps the rope around her arms and ties it extra tight, he leans forward to press a kiss on her shoulder, then pushes aside some of her hair to gently nip at her neck. Her clean scent fills in his nostrils when he's this close, his warm breath touching her skin.

"Hopefully this is all to your liking, Princess." Yes, that's his pet name for her. To him, Sheryl is his princess.