She felt she would soon fall and melt. She needed to hold on to something, otherwise she would get lost…

Self-control, she reminded herself.

She went still, trying to focus on her breath…

…even though Dago said a moment ago to focus only on his touch…

What then?she asked the sky desperately, fighting with all her muscles to stop them from the slightest movement.

Breath or touch?

What was more important?

Breath, she decided, gritting her teeth when the wet caress suddenly got more intense.

One couldn’t live without breathing. Touch wasn’t that important…

She bit her lip, choking back a moan which almost escaped her throat.

…even ifnownothing else seemed to matter.

She could live without touch.

Raspberry dream, what was he doing?

She didn’t need it…

Why was he acting as if he was eating…

…the most delicious…

…ice cream…

…under…

…the sun?

Hera tensed, arching her back. She couldn’t. It was too difficult. She felt her body shiver. Like the air before the storm. Like the earth before the quake. Like a volcano before eruption.

But the thunder didn’t come, the earth didn’t break, and the volcano didn’t erupt.

There. Was. Only. This. Flaming. Pressure. She. Could. Not. Stand. Any. Longer.

“Dago,” she said, not caring that her words sounded like moans. “Stop.”

The man pulled away and a refreshing breeze cooled her skin. Good. One moment and she would become herself again. One moment and this arduous pressure would fade away…

Midais straightened, wiping the moisture from his nose and mouth with the back of his hand.

Moisture.

Her moisture.

She ignored the blush on her cheeks, but how could she not notice when…

“What’s wrong?” Dago asked, surveying her face. His gaze seemed focused and distracted at the same time.

Hera swallowed. “I can’t stand it any longer,” she said, trying to hide the desperation boiling inside her. “That’s enough.”