Herbalists' Cache An Escape

Her standing made it worse; the breeze carried her smell toward him in a gust, and he couldn't hold his breath forever. A ragged inhalation sealed his fate. She was at once innocence and lust, youthful but with a musk that had stood the test of time for thousands and thousands of seasons. She was irresistible, and she had not the slightest clue.

"You're right," Shale told her, taking a few more steps forward. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her flow through his nostrils. "I shouldn't be here." He made a strangled noise, a groan caught in his throat, and moved closer, face a tail's-length away from hers.

"How do you feel?" The question was murmured, barely a breath. His voice, normally a level tenor, had taken on a coy lilt, each word dripping with suggestion. He held her gaze, unflinching, even as he felt his body begin to respond, heedless of the turbulent thoughts within his brain.

He wanted to hear her say it. How she felt. What she made of this newfound desire old as time itself coursing through her supple form.