"Mmmn..." Her question is shelved for the moment when he sits up to meet her and her lips take his again, this time punctuated with a small nip to his lower lip, she arches against his touch, hips rolling against his. As his fingers slide over the curve of her breasts, that shred of shadow-fabric clinging to her skin seems to loose itself almost completely at once, falling away as it's stroked off her shoulders.

She chuckles. Yes, that was her doing, somehow. She may have some strange biology, but the smoothness of her skin and the curve of her breasts, complete with deeper rose-grey points for nipples, are just as delightful as any woman's.