She presses her head into his palm, her lips parting to taste him.

Slowly this time. As if they had all the time in the world.

She savours each moment, memorising everything about him. The feel of his mouth on her own, the scruff of his unshaven chin, the feel of his fingertips drawing spirals along her spine, the heat of his body bleeding through the thin silk.

The sound of Damocles whining and pawing at the bookcase.