He sat up as well, and they were pressed together, entwined. Skin touching skin in new and unknown ways. His mouth across her chest and Reinette could only shiver. After all, one may kiss Madame de Pompadour's cheek, her hand or her wrist. Even the flush of skin above the bodice of her gown. But she was so rarely without the finery and trappings of court life.

But here she was exactly that -- without. And with him all at once. And though Reinette was not sure if she entirely agreed with the Doctor's objections to her clothing? She did know she much preferred the way his fingertips brushed over her ribcage than any silk she had yet to discover.