She’s sipping the soup now, her inner voice making all the delighted sounds she can’t voice in person. Her soft moans send a tingling arousal through my entire body, from fingertips to tentacles. How does she do this to me? I hate it. “Stop focusing on the soup,” I snap. “Pay attention to the prince. Men like women who focus solely on them.” But I want to eat, she whines. It’s so delicious. Have you tasted soup before? “Of course. Many kinds.” There are many kinds? Oh my gods. I want to try them all. The corner of my mouth twitches up. Furious, I slap my own face, hard.
