The library was silent, save for the scratching of Ines's quill. She sat hunched over her desk, the lamp casting a warm circle of light on the cream-colored paper.
Outside, the night was dark and still, but inside Ines's mind, and on the page before her, her creativity was threatening to spill over.
"Stefan…!" Doris moaned.
Ines wrote the words, her hand trembling slightly. She could hear the moan in her own head. It wasn't Doris's voice. It was her own. The low, helpless sound she had made in this very room, on this very desk.
Doris pulled her head back, giving him access to the large expanse of the skin of her neck.
Ines paused. She remembered the feeling of Carcel's breath on her neck. The heat of his mouth. The way her head had fallen back, surrendering.
Doris should definitely do that.
As she looked at the lovely moon that was high on the sky from his tall window. Stefan muffled her moans with his kiss.
