In the light of day, he drew her close, feeling the warmth of her and the slight dampness of perspiration through the back of her dress. He also felt her quickened heartbeat and felt it answered by his own.

She leaned against him, reveling in his strength, giving herself over to the tremors of pleasure his nearness always brought. His hands were in her copper hair, pulling it from its pins, draping it around her shoulders. Her eyes bathed him in their sultriness, stirring responsive yearnings within him.  He tasted the curve of her throat, the fragile whiteness at the top of her breasts, which was revealed by the deeply cut bodice of her dress.

"I want you." His voice was a hungry groan. "Here, now!" His touch became urgent, compelling, and she lent herself to it, her own desires soaring, feeling him fill her world with his presence, knowing no other existence than being here, in his arms.

He drew her down onto the bed, never taking his eyes from her, as though he could never see her enough, never touch her enough. The door was open to the sky outside, and the sunlight streamed down, warming the silk sheets on the bed, seeping a sweet fragrance of open fields and blue heavens from it.

He had loved her in the darkness, by the light of the fireplace, but here, in the shaft of golden sun, he found a certain erotic pleasure in his shadow as he covered her body with his own.

His slow, arousing caresses were becoming fierce and demanding, hurrying to find his pleasure, knowing his pleasure could only be found in hers. His hands were hungry, parting the silk of her dress, caressing her breasts, his mouth following the tender path he traced, nipping at their coral crests, making them stand in provocative peaks that beckoned to his lips.

She moved beneath him, parting her thighs, eager for him, hungry to have him enter her to satisfy this passion he aroused. She breathed his name, then cried for mercy when he seemed to linger too long.

He teased her, gently rubbing her inner thighs, moving upwards, skirting the center of her desires. She writhed and moaned, begging him for her release, feeling as though she were caught in a whirlpool of emotions, eddying in wide circles that became smaller, more closely spaced, until at the center she would find him, whirling with her in the cool green center of passion spent.

He watched her face as he moved within her, feeling her body contract  and ripple around his, drawing him into her, making him a part of her. Her eyes were closed, lips parted, her head rolling back and forth as though to deny what she was feeling. And at the end, when her back arched and a deep purr of contentment erupted from her throat, she opened her eyes as though in surprise to find him looking down at her, the sight of her passions inflaming his. He quickened his stroke, seeking his own satisfaction, certain of hers. It was her name he cried as he rushed to his own blazing release, and the sound was a symphony to her ears.