If there's any talent there, it'd be pure instinct guiding her hands. She's never really had occasion to be so intimate with anyone, yes, including what's his name.

She watches him with grey green eyes, half-lidded with contentment.

After a long moment, she draws herself up, the movement self-contained, almost predatory. She moves to her hands and knees, and stalks up his front, nuzzling along the line of his jaw.

"You are wearing too many clothes, Lyonya."