She stands before him, a dark goddess. Her azure eyes seem to glow in the flickering lightning that intermittently lights the sky through the window that frames her. His ears are assaulted by the rapidly approaching thunder as it rolls in over the rooftops and yet it is her image that fills all of his senses.
In abeyance of his request her pale hands rise to her shoulders, her fingertips delicately brushing the velvet blackness of the silk robe, which falls, rippling behind her to be lost in a pool of darkness at her feet. Her face is enigmatic but the passion he senses behind her calm exterior is a thing of wonder for him. That she wants him, as he has so long needed her is more than he could have ever dared hope. He has sensed over the past weeks a closening of the bond that has always been there between them since he pledged himself to her, but in a deeper physical way. Finding her eyes on him and then holding his gaze moments longer than necessary. She has seemed to seek his company, to find excuses to touch him. Her delicate hands brushing his hair back behind his ears, holding his fingers between hers, caressing them slightly. He in return has returned those polite touches, which he prayed in hope were the result of more than friendship. Finding excuses to lay his hand on her, the small of her back as she entered a room, clasping her hand as she exits a carriage. He feels his blood heat, warming the space that he has created between them.
The cream of her skin seems darker now against the stark white of her simple linen nightgown, which in a sudden flash of lightning becomes translucent outlining the too thin lines of her body with an almost eerie glow. His warm eyes trace the outline of her full breasts noticing the pearling of her nipples. The beast inside of him howls to snatch her to him, to ravish her body with savage lust, to lose himself in the burning heat of blood and flesh, and yet the man he is aches to wait, to savor this moment, every touch, every sensation; to worship her.
Her fingertips now hook under the fine straps of her gown beginning to ease them over her shoulders.
"Wait."
His voice is heavy with emotion and within seconds he has crossed the floor space that separates them. She obeys. Her hands drop and she raises her sharp face to meet his eyes, which he fears will give away every secret to her probing gaze. His hands gently grasp her shoulders her skin satin like under his rough palms. He runs them up and down the smooth, dry skin and watches with pleasure as her eyes become hazy, her breathing become more pronounced and her lips open, flower like beneath his steady gaze. As her turns her unresisting body he manages to remove his boots kicking them away to rest against the wall. He lays his hand against her back, splaying his fingers across the ridge of her marble spine marveling at how large and rough it looks against her delicate skin and yet how right. His other hand quickly sets to work to finish unbuttoning his shirts that she began moments before, as he cradled her in his arms, pushing them down over his hypersensitive skin.
He returns his hands to caress the tops of her elegant shoulders and in one fluid movement sweeps the straps of her gown off over her arms revealing the long line of her back marred by the blacken brand of a cross. A rage crashes over him threatening to engulf him at the violation of something so perfect, so pure and yet in that moment she seems to sense it, stepping backwards, pressing her damaged skin into his body as if it would heal every harm. She feels so frail against him and yet this he recognizes is too a façade, as he can sense the iron power condensed in her tiny frame. His lips trace patterns over the top of her head breathing her clean, wild scent. His arms wrap her body embracing her into the muscles of his chest. He feels like he is clothing her in care and she shudders and seems to melt into him like she truly belongs there. For an age they stand like the conjoined lovers of the more traditional tarot deck; silent, his hands crossed over her hollowed stomach her hands bracelet like around his wrists, while outside the storm boils with the passion that permiates the air around them.
Her head arches back to lie against his shoulder exposing the pale column of her neck to him. His movement is swift and sure. He brings his lips to the sensitive skin open to him and runs them roughly down to the juncture of her shoulder whilst his hands steal up to capture her breasts. She moans his name as his tongue and teeth join the assault on her flesh as his hands gently circle the heaviness of her breasts, which she pushes more urgently against his palms. As he continues to touch and caress her skin her hands snake behind her back to nimbly unbuckle the belt at his waist and pull open the buttons on his trousers that slide to the floor. Her nipples peak under his ministrations and he now zeros in on the buds teasing them with his finger tips as she arches her back her breath hissing in and out through her teeth. Her own hands reach further behind him grasping his buttocks. She sinks her nails into his flesh as his erection is pressed against the small of her back increasing the friction as she brings herself up on her toes to press the side of her neck harder against his ravening mouth.
He is barely able to contain himself; her acceptance of him, the rightness of their two bodies and her response to his touch is more than he has ever felt and he is certainly not short of experience of the physicality between and man and a woman. She is part of him, belonging to him as surely as he belongs to her.
Then she turns again towards him her eyes huge, almost black in the gloom of the room punctuated only by the occasional rip of lightning. They burn with a passion that would have unmanned most men, but he is not most men, he is more than that. Her hands reach up to grasp his head jerking it towards her lips that crash against his in a kiss of pure passion. Her body melds to his and he knows in that very moment that he can and will never let her go or let any man, beast or devil sully the sanctity of their holy union.
He lifts her as easily as if she were made of ether. Her mouth opens and his tongue delves deeper than before tasting her exotic flavour, causing her to gasp into his mouth. Her legs wrap fast around his waist her hands are everywhere in his hair, fluttering over his jaw, raking into the hard flesh of his shoulders and back.
She breaks the kiss, her face fiercely beautiful, her wild eyes boring into his very heart.
Her voice sounds rough but strong.
" Take me to bed my love."