His breathing was rough and unsteady. Lucifer didn't even have to breathe, and yet here he was, a voluntary action become involuntary, his control lost, his body fragile and human. She was right; he was at his most human with her.
It was just as well that she had kissed him, because he had nothing else to say, or at least nothing besides descriptions of how beautiful she was, and in that case, actions spoke louder than words. He tried to keep any noises he was making to a minimum, but some did escape, muffled slightly by Mary's lips but audible nonetheless.