"You're going to get luckier," she whispered to him, tilting her face into the touch of his gloved fingers -- and mentally noted that she liked the texture play, and that leather, velvet, fur, silk, lace might be fun to experiment with, at the same time as she was trying to keep her knees from buckling out from underneath her.

Ordinarily, she might have tried to get her own back. Wrap her fingers around his wrist, or run her fingers over scratches left the previous night, but something about the choice of costumes encouraged her to play his princess a little, and only murmur, "My dragon knight," to let him feel the low, sweet, thronging need that was threatening her sanity at the moment.