Before she could stop her hands, they reached for him, as though they existed for no other reason than to touch him. Her fingers brushed across his jaw with a feather's caress before pulling away, and he closed his eyes on a soft inhale. Like the poison toying with its remedy, Shahrzad's hands ignored her and took control, a mere taste of his skin not nearly enough. Never enough.
Renee Ahdieh, The Wrath and the Dawn
feathers, love, passion, poison, touch