Before Crawford could respond, the sensation of his hand melted away to be replaced by the feel of a heated body, slicked and tight. Sweat, sex, Schuldig’s cologne mingled with cigarettes and stale alcohol assailed his senses. Moans filled his head; low lascivious sounds that reverberated within the space of his skull and vibrated down his body.

I absolutely adore that paragraph. The whole thing was hot as hell, but that paragraph was so perfect that I could feel and smell and taste it. Well done!