[Max likes the passion, though his body over her sparks a little growl in her throat and a flex of superhuman strength in her fingers promising to bruise his shoulders, the traces of aggression not so much faded as joining with lust.]
Depends on the aesthetic. [She gives the words in a complaining little moan, rumpling his shirt even as she gives a preening, deliberate arch and shimmy, kicking her pants away and showing off an expanse of smooth golden flesh.]