He wouldn't dare suppose to handle any woman roughly (when not half done-in by drink or fisstech, at least, as had been the case now and again in younger and more reckless days) without being told it was alright. Not even a woman as sturdy and unafraid as Éomer. He feels her fingers in his hair and growls, but it's a sound of pleasure rather than a warning.

"Shouldn't do this here." He says, when he pulls back enough to breathe.