Except he's not all that keen on giving her the opportunity. He can all but hear those gears in her head starting to turn with plots of escape and resistance, so for the moment, he stalls them with a thought.

Or rather, a scent.

It emanates from him like a rich perfume, exotic and a hint spicy. No doubt somewhat familiar to her, because there's something deeply marked as Prikin in the scent but also different and new, as well. More potent. More mesmerizing. It teases against her senses, wraps around her mind, ensnaring her with sudden heat, a hunger. The need o stay pressed as close to him as possible and making him as necessary as oxygen. Giving her an insatiable craving that only he can sate - should he choose to, at any rate.