The first thing I did was separate what I’d harvested. The aphrodisiac plant went on one side, the plants I had gathered on the way back on the other side. I worked methodically, trimming stems, sorting leaves by size, setting aside anything that didn’t look right.
Then, I pricked my finger. Just a drop of blood was all it would take. I pushed the blood out into a small dish and then started the distillation process.
The distillation process wasn’t complicated, but it required attention. I had a small portable burner I used for field work that I set up on the table, along with a glass beaker and a length of copper coil.
I got the first stage going and while it ran I started on the blending ratios. This was the part that required actual thinking, which was why I preferred doing it alone. I was so deep in my notes that I didn’t notice I’d moved the cloth aside on the aphrodisiac cuttings until my thumb caught on something sharp.
It was a quick, painful sting. I pulled my hand back instinctively and looked down.
A bead of blood was forming at the tip of my thumb where one of the thorns had caught me.
“Shit,” I muttered, recalling Melissa’s warning about the thorns. I quickly grabbed a cloth and pressed it firmly to my thumb, standing. I figured I should probably get to the clinic before the aphrodisiac set in.
But it hit quickly. By the time I made it to the greenhouse door, it was too late.
The warmth set in immediately. It was like someone had struck a match in my low belly, and the fire was quickly catching on all of my organs and tissues, turning everything hot and irresistible. I turned, biting my lip. My vision swam, and the room seemed to have double of everything as I looked around.
Goddess, even biting my lip brought pleasure into my hips, and I let out a low, involuntary moan as I dragged the flesh through my teeth.

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