He pulls back eventually, swallowing hard. And finally lets himself look down, and see what's pushing against his chest. His eyes close briefly - soft, warm tits against his skin, Christ - and then he bends, and brushes a kiss over the rise of one of them.

She tastes salty, of course, silk under his lips, wet and yielding to his mouth. He drags a deep breath in, aware of his heartbeat pulsing between his legs, and runs his hands down her sides.

'I think, Lady Bols, you're in danger of snapping my restraint.'