[His watches as she sets aside both bottle and glasses, allowing Tyki to seal himself up against her back in a long, warm line of physical contact. He understands that part of her is permitting this, just as she's led him so elegantly up to her private hotel room, but he also sees beyond that. He knows what she wants, because he's tried to pull it out of her — the unveiling of intimacy in this kind of pleasure.

It's so very human.]

That's not true. [Tyki noses at her warm nape, inhaling sweet perfume.] The way you say it is so humble. A beautiful woman like you, in front of me? And wearing a dress like this.

[His other hand comes down, flattening aside the draped fabric around Clorinde's waist as he introduces warm fingertips to her upper thigh, lightly petting at pale skin. This touch travels with no resistance, slipping underneath a hem and between her legs with an investigatory rub.]

Are you wet? Were you, earlier, when you were thinking about tonight?