Groaning with pressure at the cut of her nails into his shirt, Byron chuckled. He would need to see the costumers before his show. Part of him called back to the Byron of his human years when his parties involved onlookers of particular taste and how brilliant her former body felt around him in the dark corners of the family garden.
Teasing her opening with his fingers, he pushed deep into her and held his fingers there while his thumb worked on her. The thrum of her quickened pulse louder in his ears and his own pulse humming with excitement, his length pressed for release against his trousers.