Redtail Rise the right side of my neck still smells like you

there were so many things she could have said.
this is sinful was one of them. they were not even engaged — and she was not like her mother, she was still wholly pure; thoughts of doing such a thing had never even crossed dinah's mind until she fell face-first into the fireworks mulherin set off within her. i've never done this before was another one. what if her breath smelled? what if she was bad at this — too eager, too much tongue or teeth, too nervous?
but ultimately the answer was nothing, and she spoke this not with words but with the gentle press of her lips to his own; sweet as butterscotch and ever so hesitant at first before she allows herself, little by little, to meld her body into his. her limb stretches around his neck, draped over his shoulder; a wolfish whine of anticipation is followed by a fluttering giggle as her pulse soars, tail swaying behind her with a contented rhythm.
he tastes better than prayer.