Note: This is a warning for those of you who have ignored the rating I gave this series (it is rated "M" for mature sexual themes although I have done my best to keep it from pornographic descriptions), that this chapter once again delves into a description of sex between a married couple. Yes, they are married.
His lips press against hers, his heart begins to beat faster. He pulls back and strokes her cheek, brushing away a tendril of brown hair.
"You are so beautiful, my beloved." he whispers into her ear as she trembles. "Your eyes are as gray and peaceful as doves. Your hair, it is as long as a line of goats coming down a mountain. Your teeth are smooth and white, like a flock just shorn of wool and washed clean by the mountain streams, and not one has been lost."
She smiles, thinking she is still dreaming. "Tell me more of myself," she encourages coyly.
He touches her lips with roughened fingers. "Your lips, lovely scarlet ribbons. Your temples are as full of color as pomegranates, glowing with health. Your neck is straight with slender elegance, just as my father's tower." He fingers her necklace, laughing, "And on the tower hangs thousands of shields, in memory of his brave soldiers." He gazes into her eyes, and knows her fears have gone. His hands move to her robe, opening it slowly. He gently places a hand on her breast, and she shudders in delight.
"Your breasts are like a gazelle's fawns." Even in her delight, she is confused by the comparison. But he does not stop to explain. "Until morning breaks and the darkness is chased away, I will have my fill of you, my lily. I will come to you, the mountain of sweet smelling spices and herbs." He draws her robe off entirely and gazes at her. She smiles, knowing that his gaze differs from the gazes of the watchmen. His eyes travel up her body and meet hers. "All beautiful you are, my darling." he vows softly. "There is no flaw in you."
"Come, come with me, do not stay far away, come away from the danger in the world." He opens his arms wide, crying, "With just a look you have stolen my heart!" She pulls his robe off, tossing it to the floor, and they are one. With each other, in each other, reveling in the wonder of love.
"Your love," he laughs, "Is more intoxicating than the oldest wine, and your scent is better than the most expensive perfume." She laughs and swats him. "No, I speak the truth!" he protests. He catches her hands and kisses them. "The words you speak, they are sweet as honey, with no sting or malice, my wife. Surely the secrets of wealth and prosperity lie under your tongue, begging to be released!"
Growing serious, he lifts her chin and stares into her face. "You are as a garden locked up." he chides gently. "Your spring is sealed and your fountain is closed, why do you lock yourself away?" Her eyes lower to the floor. "You have so much to offer!" he weeps for her brokenness. "Your garden, your soul, it is planted with the sweetest life has to offer, the spices of life itself!" He cups her face in his hands, his tears flowing. "Be unsealed, a well of flowing water giving life to all."
Holding back her own tears, she steps back and cries, "Come, winds of the world! Spread the fragrance of my garden to those who perish for lack of life." She offers a weak smile. "But the garden itself is for you. Let my lover come in and taste of its fruits."
Note: I do not mean to imply that her lover is asking her to give herself away to others, he is asking her to let herself trust others again, to be able to enter normal relationships with people again. At least, in this historical fiction version. That may not be the true interpretation of the Biblical passage. But then, I am no Bible scholar, and I'm certainly open to criticism if I've erred, but this is what I see in the poetry and passion of Song of Songs.