Ocean's Breath Plateau how long can you hold your breath?

erzulie arched in his embrace, offering herself more fully to his touches, widening her stance that he could glean of her fragrances more easily. the dance was rote; but he was not, was not, still dragged at by some unseen thing. the sob that rose in his throat caught the swivel of her dark ears, and in the shadows the harlot turned toward the withdrawing man, to seek the newmint glow of his eyes with her own.
be not afraid
she feathered kisses along his brow, his cheeks; erzulie sought to draw him back to her again, murmuring a snippet or two of the french she recalled marie using with her culls. but this one, not an ordinary and rough-necked fuck in discomfort; a broken and sensitive thing, and somehow it was for that she was urged.