*Kiona*

The next morning finds me lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, much as I have been ever since I had retired last night. I can’t stop thinking about what had transpired in the garden.

As Castor had deepened the kiss, exploring the confines previously untouched by any man, he had moaned, a low lament that reminded me of how I respond when I first bite into a delicious new chocolate confection. As though nothing before it has ever been as flavorful, as though nothing after it will ever usurp the exquisite satisfaction it wrought. All-encompassing, exhaustively intoxicating. More. I always want more, indulge my desires.

It seems he...