He didn’t understand this. Didn’t know what she was doing, but her soft lips kneading his was the loveliest paralytic. Her mouth was warm and giving, her fingers gentle where they dug into the hair at his nape. His heart was stuck mid-beat, breath no longer necessary. He could nearly taste her, and then her lips parted, and her tongue swept across the seam of his mouth. Sikthand, the king harder than askait, trembled.
