*Poppy*
I have a moment of panic, but then I let him do it. He plucks me up and pulls the chemise free. Without a word, he nestles me back against his chest, quite as if I'm not almost entirely naked except for my lacy little drawers.
"That’s a very pretty garment," he says, with a distinct note of masculine satisfaction as he runs a finger along the lace trim.
"I designed it myself," I say. "It’s made of knotted silk. That’s double-edged lace."
"What are your rules?" he asks in my ear just as one of his hands settles on my bare knee.
He doesn’t seem to be looking at the lace, but I can’t think very clearly. I’m too fascinated by the contrast of Fennec’s sun-darkened hand on my white knee. In this moment, I actually feel rather pink and white, at least compared to his brownness. "Here
