"Why so worried, Igor?" Masha traced a finger across his exposed collarbone, smirking wickedly. "This was your idea."
Igor shuddered, though from cold, fear, or pleasure, he didn't know which.
"I…We…that is…"
"We'll be fine." With practiced ease, she added a mild curse onto the lock of the abandoned classroom. "I thought you wanted…?"
"I – I do, but – What if—"
Masha's tongue grazed the back of his neck. Igor jolted.
"Just relax, would you?"
Fortunately, Igor didn't have to figure out how to. When Masha deftly shed her robes and reapplied her tongue, his brain stopped working.