Tarantulas squeaks in surprise when Ryja suddenly pulls them both down, but then they're on the bed, his legs spread wide around her midsection, and shiver suddenly goes down his spine, making his internals clench. He stares at her, eyes wide, gaze rapt. A devotee before something holy.

Her laughter is so sweet and her body is so soft, like the sugar cakes he came to love far too much around Givingstide. He wants to eat her whole.

"Ryja," he whispers hoarsely. "May I kiss you? May I please?"