Vivian pulled back from his shoulder. Her golden eyes — still soft, still raw from what the last hour had done to her composure — went wide.
"'W-what—'" She looked at his face to confirm he had actually said that. He had. He was looking at the garden wall with the same flat patience he brought to logistics. Her mouth closed. Opened. "'Hngg~?!'"
His hand moved.
It found her left breast under the water — full, heavy, warm — and closed around it with the easy ownership of a man who had decided something and was not going to explain the decision. His fingers pressed in. The breast gave beneath his grip, soft and full, and the sensation — the specific pressure of his incubus hand against skin that had not been touched in years and was now being touched like this — drew out of Vivian a sound that she had not planned.
"'—Haahn~—!'"
