A squeak of protest flings itself from Fern's lips as Adamion's hand takes command of her, tangling itself in her hair.  Her neck muscles tightening as to prevent his moving her but it never makes it that way.  She is easily moved, all fight seemingly gone out of her, though more than likely its a 'for the moment' kind of thing.  Her eyes closing before Miaren could begin her ministrations upon his flesh, she instead hears the stead lick, like train drops a porch eave, steady and liquid.<br/><br/>Cringing away as from the splatter of poppin fat in an overheated skillet Fern tries, without success to bring her awareness away from the nearness of the source of that smell of.. what was it?  would it get worse?  Could they escape?  There is no answer forthcoming.  Only more fear, more rancid, coating fear.<br/><br/>In a voice both whispered and tremulous Fern cannot keep the fear and revulsion from her lips.  "Just.. just kiss it.. don't.. don't ..",  grimacing, she continues.."don't suck.  Just kiss it."  As she lowers herself, the tip of a strawberry red tongue darted out to just touch the swaying heat.