Northstar Vale with parted lips in fragrancy of prayer: unearth everything that’s in me

Skinship: simpers and soft teasings. A rare thing, this  –  for another that was not the wind, snow, or flurrying of her beloved's kisses to touch upon the dead-delicate tapestry that had been made of her spine. There were places, welted and worn, which either retained too much sensation or none at all; but the press of her myriad mentor was not yet an unwelcome one ... nor her own enquiry. Though they were surely well and alone, a timid eye was still reserved to take in the great, reaching chamber all 'round them. Then, somewhat hushedly:

“Teeth on my throat,”  as so evidenced, finally, by her bridesmark,  “and ze taunting. Ze coming undone by words. When it is I who move my hips beneath him. When I look into his eyes as I end him. And—”  the fairylight presses her ribs to stone, now, and looks upon the medusian; lain beneath her to-be second.  “And, once upon a time ... it made me happiest to have him plead for me. I want that again. And, I want ... well, there must be more that I can do  –  is there not?”

There must be more that I can make him feel. Make him wish for.