I ran my fingers down his strong jaw and felt the rough stubble that was there. He pulled back and looked at me and said, “We shouldn’t do this. W... can’t.” "Shouldn’t and can’t are two very different terms, Mr. Tait,” and I kissed him, letting my tongue slide into his mouth. He didn’t resist. I had been blushing out of shyness. Now I felt hot all over. One of his hands went to my waist and the other went through my long, dark brown hair. Then he stood, pulling me with him and picked me up, my. I feign what sense of dignity remains by sitting back forward. Like nothing had happened. He just smirks at me. ‘Silvanus.’ ‘Marzipan.’ I smirk. He removes his bowler and runs his fingers back through his hair, resting his cane against the table as he sits opposite me. It’s a lovely cane – mahogany in length, with a silver horse-head for the handle, I fear I may have been gazing at it for too long. His eyebrows are raised. ‘There will have to come a day when you can think of something. More

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