That impish little nip to his lip nearly had Daemon forgetting the question, and he blinked it back with a slow grin. Seeing the warm smile on her face stirred his loins, again, but this wasn't about that, so he shoved back his libido with an iron will. "...means thank you, in Dothraki," he finally replied, gently tilting her head so that he might place a line of kisses along her jaw, down the lovely slope of her throat, and upwards again, meeting her mouth in another long, slow kiss.

She was slowly filling his senses, leaving him reeling in a maelstrom of want that he knew he have to deal with come later. He couldn't have her - not right now, at least - but Daemon knew he'd rather have a little than absolutely nothing at all.

Lifting his head again, he drew back just enough to meet her gaze, his half-lashed and hazy with desire, and whispered, "I could also say, Yeri arre zheana. It means 'You're so beautiful'." Especially like this, flushed and well-kissed.