She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. It is dull—deadly dull. . Ah, and put him under if he wakes up. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. She hunted the markets for bread and treats so they could feast during the day.
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