The moment his hand made contact, Sol's mind blanked for a fraction of a second.
Soft.
Elastic.
Firm.
The sensation of her breast under his palm was impossible to ignore. Warm flesh yielded slightly beneath his fingers before pushing back with healthy resilience.
Even through the thin, sweat-damp fabric of her garb, the shape and weight of it registered with perfect clarity.
He could swear that it wasn't intentional, he coughed once, forcing his thoughts into line.
I'm a doctor right now. She's a patient. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He repeated the words in his head like a mantra, trying to focus entirely on the flow of poison and the structure of her veins.
Yet his hand remained where it was, and almost without conscious decision, his fingers gave the soft mound a small, testing squeeze.
The flesh compressed beautifully under his grip before springing back.
Sol's ears heated slightly. He immediately clamped down on the distraction and activated his power.
