He tears a line down at the cleavage of her dress, opening it to the navel and pushing enough of a flap aside that he can continue the spiral. And when it reaches the center he rolls the tips of his talons over her nipple, the threat of violence and bloodletting and tearing it off her body but light enough that it's still only play.

His brief laugh rolls into her mouth as he kisses her back, and kisses her again, quick passionate kisses like a staccato rhythm to drive it just a little further. And as her fingers move the kisses are broken by little noises that are almost moans. Because, yes, that feels good. very good.