She likes being watched, and Data likes watching her. He knows that many humans are more self-conscious in the way they go about this, dimming all lights and hiding under covers. And he would respect it, were it the case with River, but he much prefers the chance to observe everything, to memorize and take it all in.

And that is exactly what he is doing. His gaze flickers eagerly around her face and her body, and he does lift his head to see where he is connected to her. She is a natural work of art, he thinks, her form soft and organic and full of beautiful imperfections he could never recreate. It would be difficult for her to look more beautiful than she does now, skin flushed and glistening, eyes dark with arousal, the edges of her hair shining gold in the dimming sunlight. The image of what he sees is enough to make him shudder every now and then, to send yet another wave of heat into the space between his legs.

He brings one hand around just above her tail bone, holding her close and firmly, allowing her to move when she wants to. His other hand trails over her hips and up her side, stopping to cup one of her full breasts gently in his palm.