Admittedly, she was taking his lead for now, two fingers slipping into his recent voided pocket as he draws them together, lips parting easily under him. Maybe it was because she'd grown used to feeling Dorian's cold or the lack of body heat at all, or maybe it had the same excuse as Draco's reddened knuckles, but he was warm through his t-shirt.

Her left hand braved the distance up to rest on the back of his hip, tongue flicking out long enough to run a small soft section of his inner lip. It was innocent with the natural hesitance of the first time but she didn't aim to let that settle for long. The start of anything was mildly difficult for her; she just had to let him move her over that first ridge.