He worked the laces with careful fingers, his own desire a steady, growing heat. The fabric parted, revealing a simple linen shift underneath. He pushed the dress down her shoulders, helping her to wriggle free of it until she was left in just the thin undergarment. The lamplight caressed the full swell of her breasts above the chemise's neckline, the dip of her waist, the lush curve of her hips.
"You are stunning, Jessica," he said, the words heartfelt.
A blush painted her cheeks. "I'm… sturdy. Not like Lyra."
"Lyra is Lyra," he said firmly, leaning down to kiss the valley between her breasts through the linen. "And you are you. And right now, I can't imagine anything more beautiful than you." He hooked a finger under one strap and drew it down her arm, following the path with his mouth. When he reached the peak of her breast, he closed his lips over the linen-covered nipple, sucking gently.
She cried out, her hands flying to his hair. "Oh!"
