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In the small hours of the morning, you wake again when you feel the Doll's loving arms start to slip from around you. Your hands move before you can think, clutching her tightly against your chest.

She freezes at first, then melts into you. In a hushed voice, she confesses what your touch does to her; how your pleading eyes make her protective, possessive, almost dangerous with wanting. She warns you not to tempt her, but the temptation already burns too hot in both of you.

When her lips finally claim yours, the kiss is slow and deep, a release of years of silent longing. She’s only supposed to be your guardian, she says, not your lover, yet she leans closer again and again. Perhaps she’ll give you a bit more of herself tonight… as long as by morning, you’ll forget.

Or... will you?

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