Asphodel pointing out the very real reality of Theo potentially getting killed in all this was not something unknown to him, so he huffed a dry laugh at her even taking the time to mention it. Each time she showed up, death loomed nearer. In the kitchen, perhaps if he hadn't tried to stop her, she could've easily drained him entirely, drunk and aching. The fact that she could, as she implied, crush his skull between her thighs barely registered because she could do the same by tossing him across the room, he could hit the wall and snap his neck. She could punch her fist through his ribcage and rip his heart out.
She could've flown into a rage when he called her a whore and finished the job of ripping his throat out.
Instead she was amused by him in this moment, delighted, even? He could never understand the responses she had. For all he thought her a monster and met her with fury, she'd never tried to kill him. He was sure she'd thought about it, like he'd done the same about her, but the important fact was she hadn't acted on the impulse yet. Maybe it gave him false courage, baiting the beast, or maybe it just convinced him she wasn't a killer even if she was a leech. The delicate house of cards holding them up would collapse one day, he was sure, and he was certain he'd be the corpse at the end.
Asphodel let his hair go, settling back down onto the pillows against the headboard. One of her hand went up to cushion her head, the other toying with the hem of her dress. Said dress was hiked up, laying everything bare for him. The apex of her thighs were abnormally pale, her puffy lips likewise. She wasn't letting her legs spread, knees still up - a small barrier between herself and Theo, even as she laid herself out. A tingle of a silent challenge coming from her.
Maybe she thought he'd balk at her pointing out she could crush his skull?
Something must be wired incorrectly in his brain - all those memory wipes or being dropped on his head too many times as an infant, who knew - because it hardly made him pause. He positioned himself in front of her, hands back on her thighs, sliding onto her inner thighs and moving down slowly but with purpose, nudging them apart. As he did this, he lowered himself down on the bed, shouldering himself between her legs.
Then, positioned where he wanted to be, he curled his hands around her thighs to get a proper grip on her, fingers curling around the crease between hips and upper thighs, fingers nudging hers curled into her hem. He pulled her a little further down the bed, no warning given, to get a better angle, and lowered his head down. He ran the flat on his tongue along her slit, teasing her lips and slowly getting into it.
Taking the challenge head on, so to speak.