Phei did not remark on the small moan.
His thumbs made the same slow pass again, with pleasure flowing through his fingers and this time he let the touch linger at the flare of her hip, pressing just enough that she felt how easily his hands could have gone lower and how deliberately they did not, which was way more pleasureful than a grab—
—her thighs pressed together in the open air while between them she was already wet, the night finding it, and Phei could smell how turned on she was; her early nectar was rising off her under the ruined hem but kept his mouth shut about that too, holding her waist as if the waist were the whole errand while Consort, who had once thrown him through darkness without blinking, stood in his hands and let the heat climb.
"Nnh…"
