This was all so unreal, he reflected, to touch her smooth, clear skin, to feel her delicate jawbones beneath a soft layer of flesh. She felt too good to be real, like a work of art crafted by countless artisans to portray the very best of her kind, to be exemplary of all the finest that femininity possessed.

Or perhaps he was merely growing more smitten with her over time rather than losing the enchantment he held all these months.

“Of course I trust you,” she sniffled, her eyes growing watery again, her lips pursing and trembling as she looked on the verge of more tears.

“No more of that,”...