"As I promised," he said, voice more than a little bit smug, pulling his hand back for a moment to fold the cloth to another clean side. Entertaining as it might be, smearing dirt back onto her would rather defeat his efforts thus far. Taking advantage of her implicit permission (or, at the very least, her momentary vulnerability), he brushed the cloth against the now-exposed curve of her breasts. While his previous touches had been gentle, if a bit businesslike, this was overtly sensual, with the cloth lingering far too long against the soft flesh. Unable to resist the temptation, Lazerette's reptilian host even leaned in to lick lightly at her chest. It was brief, but every distinctive: the brief flicker of wet, warm tongue against her skin couldn't possibly be mistaken for the cloth (or for an accidental touch, for that matter). He even glanced up at her for a reaction, mouth cracked slightly in an impressively toothy smile.