“Do humans never fuck at parties?” “Not the parties I’ve been to.” Folly’s face heats. “People usually at least find a dirty alleyway.” Yarrow tucks a lock of hair behind Folly’s ear. He leans close to murmur, “That sounds dreadful. You’re far too gorgeous for a dirty alleyway. I’d rather fuck you in a meadow of summerstars, or the shallows of the Pyran, or that floral swing over there. Even the flowers would dim against your beauty.”
