A long, trembling shudder went through her whole frame. The sensation was too thick, too full, her body turned so sensitive by the lives growing inside her that every touch felt like a hot iron sliding over bare nerve.
"Soren… please," she gasped, her head rolling side to side on the linen, her white hair twisting around her neck. "You are… I cannot breathe when you do that."
"Is that so," he murmured against her skin, his hand sliding down between her thighs.
He found her already wet, a thick, slick heat that was slicker than the elder-oil from the tub.
He moved his fingers through the soft hair at her entrance , his touch light as a breath, his thumb finding the small, hard bead of her pleasure and tracing it in a tiny, agonizingly slow circle.
He didn't press; he just rubbed the wetness over the skin, over and over, until Eris began to thrash against his arm, her teeth biting into her lower lip to keep from screaming into the rafters.
