He swept her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing, carrying her to the large, canopied bed that dominated the room.
He laid her down amongst the furs and silks, his eyes devouring her.
With impatient hands, he found the laces of her gown, his fingers, usually so deft with a sword, now fumbling with a lover's urgency.
She helped him, pushing the rich fabric from her shoulders until she lay bare before him.
The cool evening air whispered over her skin, pebbling her large, dark areolas and tightening her already prominent nipples to hard, aching peaks.
She saw his eyes darken with pure, unadulterated lust as he gazed upon her full breasts, the generous curve of her waist, and the thick, dark triangle of hair at the junction of her thighs.
He could see the red vertical lips glowing with her wet juices already. She was wet for him, so much so that she could melt down with just desire alone.
"By the gods," he whispered, his voice reverent.
"You are… magnificent."
