He's studying her, exploring her body in a way so completely different from what she'd experienced in that lab that the comparison never even enters her mind. She can tell by the way he traces her curves with his claws that he's taking note of her reactions, cataloging the experience in a way no one else ever has.
Well, if he wants reactions, she certainly gives them to him. She shivers at the tingling along her spine, squirms slightly as the claws travel over her hip, and that scratch— There's a sharp intake of breath and she clings harder to him, feeling as if every nerve in her body is suddenly awake. He sets them on fire shortly after when he attention moves to her breasts, something like a whimper emerging from her after each touch.
His teasing comment actually makes her laugh, a quiet breathy chuckle as her own hands begin to explore him, fingertips tracing over smooth metal and following the lines where plates join. Her head tilts to give him better access to her neck because she wants more of him there.
"You seem like the creative sort, sugar," she retorts, though some of the words are more breath than sound. "I'm sure you'll do... just fine..."
Up and up her hands travel, taking full advantage of being so close to parts of him she usually only sees at a distance. His neck— he's been so interested in her own that she feels the need to return the favor, the soft pads of her fingers pressing gently against the cables there, tracing each flexible link and smoothing her skin along them. After being covered up for half her life, she is eager to take advantage of this opportunity to touch and be touched, to learn what someone else feels like while she revels in the tactile sensations.
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Well, if he wants reactions, she certainly gives them to him. She shivers at the tingling along her spine, squirms slightly as the claws travel over her hip, and that scratch— There's a sharp intake of breath and she clings harder to him, feeling as if every nerve in her body is suddenly awake. He sets them on fire shortly after when he attention moves to her breasts, something like a whimper emerging from her after each touch.
His teasing comment actually makes her laugh, a quiet breathy chuckle as her own hands begin to explore him, fingertips tracing over smooth metal and following the lines where plates join. Her head tilts to give him better access to her neck because she wants more of him there.
"You seem like the creative sort, sugar," she retorts, though some of the words are more breath than sound. "I'm sure you'll do... just fine..."
Up and up her hands travel, taking full advantage of being so close to parts of him she usually only sees at a distance. His neck— he's been so interested in her own that she feels the need to return the favor, the soft pads of her fingers pressing gently against the cables there, tracing each flexible link and smoothing her skin along them. After being covered up for half her life, she is eager to take advantage of this opportunity to touch and be touched, to learn what someone else feels like while she revels in the tactile sensations.