Either it was the heat of his body against her back or the burning flush of her cheeks at the heightened awareness of every physical sensation, but it was suddenly much too warm in the room. Watching intently with light gasps, the slower removal of the second finger was even more exciting than the quick chop.
"Oh," she repeated in a more drawn out moan when the knife finally broke through, biting down hard onto her knuckle with enough force that she wondered if she might lose even another finger from it. She chuckled lightly at her unintended disobedience, not sure what else he expected her to say.
The tightly laced corset she was wearing was unaccommodating to her deepening breaths, and the lack of oxygen and the blood loss was making her vision swim. Most of her weight was now pressed against Michel as she twisted her body just slightly toward his just to keep from falling. The sight of blood was never enough to sway her, lacking delicate sensibilities that often caused other ladies to faint, but suddenly she understood the trend as she blinked rapidly to keep herself with it. "Three… maybe it was three weeks."