Fuck, but he was good at this. Almost unfairly so, and perhaps thirty seconds had passed of Jesús' eager mouth over her cunt before Zelda was regretting her choice to stand for this. At the time it had seemed a powerful stance; now, as her body shivered with each stroke of his tongue, it seemed ...

When time presented itself, Zelda liked to wander the exhibits. Their staff ensured everything was very well-kept from careless gestures and unruly children, but she always found a reassurance in clamping eyes on what she couldn't help but consider, in part, her own precious artefacts, however ...

This is a mistake , Zelda thought again as she stared down at Jesús' beatific expression. A look like that had to be a mistake to encourage, and on the face of anyone else, perhaps enough to twitch her robe closed and point toward the door. But it wasn't anyone else, and her intoxication at his ...

She was nervous, Zelda realized. The sensation was odd enough to feel foreign at this point in her life, and in what she would think of as her personal progression. Not much surprised her these days, and more the strangeness that it was coming from within herself.

Oh Christ , she thought, even as ...

Her back yet to Jesús, Zelda considered the kettle where it sat warming before her. Had her reaction been overblown? With even a scant handful of minutes to consider, perhaps. Jesús was swimming in deeper waters than he realized, kept afloat by stubbornness and the buoying scraps of their initial ...

It wasn't Jesús' fault, really. There was truth in his declaration: Rather a lot had changed in the last twenty years. He could not be expected to know her proclivities, nor his profound misstep in assessing the situation. Rafael had read it instantly, but Rafael was a different creature altogether ...

Zelda's eyes opened and she watched him there in the glass as his warm breath tickled across her freshly-washed skin. Even when they were young — So young, then, and too full of confidence to realize it — he'd been a sensual man. That day when he'd pulled her across the desk, had skimmed his thumb ...

Intimacy could be tricky. Like most aspects of life, it existed upon a spectrum that could be traversed according to circumstance. Zelda had herself witnessed the way in which it could heighten a sexual scene by primal, unknowable means, the sharp and inexorable magnetism it exuded beyond even the ...

From her place at the dressing table, Zelda held his gaze in the mirror, but did not immediately reply. Better to let him twist a moment despite that his slight was, in the grand scheme of her life and their relationship in particular, rather minor. "No," she said at last, and lifted a large, wide ...

Fresh from a bath, Zelda had been perched at her vanity and smoothing jasmine milk over her bare legs when the first knock thumped upon the front door. She paused, fingers curled around her elevated ankle, and then continued, of a mind to let whomever had called without an invitation remain in the ...