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“You’ve been rather disrespectful,” Silver said, trailing the tip of his riding crop up Sebek’s thigh. “I’ve told you before that you cannot speak to me that way.”
Sebek shivered beneath him as the crop glided over his hip. “It’s the same way I’ve always talked to you.”
“Ah,” Silver said, flicking the crop sharply. “But I wasn’t housewarden then, was I?” He used the crop to lift Sebek’s chin. “Of course, I was once serving as interim housewarden.”
“If you plan on using that thing, then use it."
He was being rather mouthy toward someone holding a horse whip in their hands, but then, Silver expected nothing less from Sebek.