A desperate moan spilled from Eira's lips as Lily's slender fingers joined hers between her legs, and, suddenly knock-kneed and unsteady, she was left clinging to the Aviari's shoulders with her free arm. The propriety and decorum she so often wore, as sure as her armor, seemed to elude her; veiled, it seemed, by bright crimson arousal.<br/><br/>The suggestion to undress was preposterous; there was virtually nothing warm about the ship<i>ever</i>, certainly not as rime leaked through the planking high in the clouds. But Eira found herself nodding anyway, a sheen of sweat lending her pale skin a luster, and she steadied herself to peel off her tunic and squirm her trousers down to her ankles, the better to grind herself into the touch of Lily's fingers.<span style="color: magenta">"Very hot,"</span>she whimpered, disheveled and needy and eager and, yet, utterly<i>lost</i>.<br/><br/>She did the only thing she could think to do: let her hand range to Lily's breasts, to sample their curves and skate a thumb experimentally over the Aviari woman's nipples, while turning her head to kiss her uncertainly.<span style="color: magenta">"I've never..."</span>For all the carnal potency of fae magic, it couldn't quite substitute for experience.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>