Women had become something of filth again. He turned his head for no one (save his mistake with Eurydice). He'd been hit on before, there was some attractive features that some thought was adorable. They found the 'artsy-thing' attractive and tended to try and take him home. That was when they became turn-offs for Pygmalion. He did not succumb to a man's willful desires, kind of the same way that priests made oaths--Pygmalion had his own oath.
He had a lot of respect to Aphrodite for the gift, but Pygmalion still had some ego that he had done all the hard work. His head started to spin, which never happened. Words were lost and thoughts were still going a mile a minute---except the connections were scattered. It was what happened with passion, he'd forgotten just how crazy it could make him feel.
He kissed down her neck, placing one just where he could feel her heartbeat strike. To feel her pulse again under his touch was almost surreal.