"Then every man of your acquaintance owes you a great debt," Hyacinthe told her. He leaned down to kiss the bruise forming over her breast, tongue poking the center of it. He was in no position to do much more than that, but it was nearly impossible for him not to kiss, to tease, or to caress. "You ought to come like that on a weekly basis at least. You're glorious, Xan."