Lickinghislips,hepressedforward.Withthehandstillwearingaglove,heextendedafingertowardthefolds,thentracedbackthepathofthatglisteningdrop.

        Reyamoanedasherbodytwisted,butcouldn''tpreventhisfingerfromsinkingintothehilt.

        Whenhegaveitanexperimentaltwistinsideher,itwashewhocriedout—hisgaspraggedandlouderthanhermoan.

        Heyankedhisfingerfreewithawetpop,staringatthetranslucentfluidnowcoatinghisglove.Ascent—sweet,floral,orsomethinghecouldn''tquitename—rushedtohisnose,cloudinghismindinaslow,headyfog.

        HelookedupatReya,startled,hisfacefullofsurprise.

        Reyahadmerelytakenonefinger,yetalreadylaypantingwithherheadlolledtotheside—arain-batteredflowerexudingfragileallureamidstthechill.

        "You''re...really..."hechokedout.

        Alowlaughescapedher,thesoundlikerawsugarscrapingupfromherthroat,sweetenoughtoitchinhisteeth.

        "Reallywhat?"

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