The gentle touch of his hand, caressing her skin as it glided down her cheek, was enough for a small, involuntary shudder to roll down her spine. Though his hand was warm, his touch left a cool, tingling trail that yet, somehow, simultaneously left her skin feeling burning hot. Caitlyn found herself unable to avert her gaze, the demon's eyes seeming to draw her in. She could not look away, grey eyes lost in his steady stare.
Her throat felt dry, the girl all too aware of the close proximity of his body. She could feel his body, radiating heat, so close to her. Her own heart was racing in her chest, beating in heavy strokes against her ribs. Her own body was burning, hot with her building want, only barely reined back, kept in check by whatever remnant of willpower still tried to desperately cling to some sense of sensibility. Some hint of reason.
His lips brushed hers, and she found the last of her breath stolen away in a lingering kiss. For a moment, her reserve still lingered, the slightest remnants of her timidity slowly dissolving with his touch. Eyes lulled, shutting out all but that firm, yet soft pressure to her lips, determined, demanding. His kiss was surprisingly gentle, luring out that passion that had only so barely been contained. Bashfulness faded, turning into barely contained hunger as she kissed the demon back.
The hand slipping under her hair scarcely needed much pressure to pull the girl towards Wroth, her body naturally melding against his frame. His form was warm and reassuringly firm, almost surprisingly strong for a man so thin of stature. Her hand found place upon the man's hip, taking hold.
She was lost. Drowning in sensation. No longer did her mind throw up any form of protest against the demon's nature, against her own actions. She wanted him. No, needed him. She was almost certain she'd die from want, so harshly raged her desire.
Thought no longer entered the equation. Reason or rhyme no longer mattered. She couldn't care less about wrong or right. All she knew was that her body was aflame with desire, fanned by the demon's touch. All she could think about what that fire, raging through her veins and her body, begging for the release it so desperately craved. She longed to be touched, longed to be taken.
A slight breath was pulled in over plump lips as the demon pulled away from her, his words brushing against her skin, so close he remained to her. She could only nod, voice lost and unwilling to function. His hand fell to her hip, nudged gently at her for her to follow. And, like a lamb to the slaughter, she allowed herself to be led, the door soon clicking shut behind them.