The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. " "When you please, Sir," said Thames, coldly. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch.
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