Hands and tendrils slid under the shirt, roving and grasping at the smaller creature. The tendrils were still cool to the touch, but his hands had warmed now, their heat following in the wake of the more flexible limbs as they explored.

"Why should I not?" His voice had shifted again, no longer coming from his mouth. His lips were pressed against Cipher Nine's skin, gentle, but sharp teeth slid delicately against it. "I am my own creation. I will display my work."