Her every touch lifted the hairs of his body to stiffness. There was an electricity coursing through him he was unfamiliar with. He'd have taken note if there was a part of him left that thought humanly. That part was gone though. Now there was just desire.
His fingers found home and he wasted no time. He put his skills to work. Fingers worked delicately even in their roughness. It was passion that drove his intensity. His technicality though, pure instinct. As fingers worked his tongue lapped at flesh. Not sand papery like a cats, his teeth added contrast. It was a shame her dress was still there. The fabric, though, added another texture to the equation. And then he began to lightly hum.