Data takes a deep breath, picking up on possible indications that she is trying to get him to relax. He shudders a few times in his attempt to do so, especially at the feeling of her lightly caressing his arm. His hands relax their grip, and he caresses her skin in a similar way, in the dip of her waist and back, down her sides and on her thigh.

It is more comfortable for him, more familiar, to be able to think a little more clearly for a few seconds. Cognitive thought has been all but drowned out by sensory information for a short but significant duration of time. At the moment, though, it is easier to consciously process what is happening, how good it feels, how wonderful this woman is in his arms, and most of all, how much he has always wanted this.

As for how it feels? Data is not certain how to describe it. He could attempt to explain how the information is being processed in his systems, what sort of data is being transmitted to his central processing unit from each and every tingling nerve on the surface of his skin. He decides to keep it simple, instead.

"It feels warm, and soft," Data answers, letting out a silent, happy sigh. "It feels wonderful." There is really no other way to put it.

"It is everything that you are," he adds, reaching up to brush some strands of hair out of her face.