She laughed up at him, and he kissed her. He couldn't stop himself. Now that he could kiss, and touch, and smile without shame, it was all he wanted to do.
She arched beneath him, curling and wrapping around him. He suddenly felt an urgent need to do more than just kiss—much more.
His hand slipped down to her breast, and he looked into her beautiful blue eyes as he teased the nipple through her robe. She gasped and her eyes darkened, her red hair spilling around her in the grass.
His head dipped down and he kissed her again, tugging and pulling at her robe. Within moments, he had it off, and she was tugging at the leather thong of the breeches he was wearing.
They were going to make love right there, in the middle of the forest, under the bright blue sky. It was perfect.
Kneeling, he pulled her up onto him, and kissed her yet again, running his hands up and down her back. He cupped her butt, pulling her closer as she wrapped her legs around him.
"I love you," he whispered to her against her neck as he trailed kisses down it.
"I love you, too," she said, perfectly. He tried not to let the unjust suspicious flow in. This was her, and it was real and it was beautiful.
He lifted her up slightly, licking and suckling at one breast, and then the other. Red hair flowed down her back as she threw her head back and clung to him, crying his name—his real name, Andrew, in a stuttering gasp.
He would never be Ser Drass again. And that was exactly the way he wanted it.