Something had awakened her... Listening, she could just make out her child's sigh of sleep, and knew that was not it...
Without her eyes still closed, she reached out her other senses. Tasted the color of the clouds, heard the texture of the rain outside, saw without seeing the dance of the river beyond the grove.
And then she felt him. A quiet presence, but strong, like the echo in a cave that never ends. He was very near, though she knew not how he had gotten past the guards.
Her room was in the north tower, what had once been the library. Sometimes, late at night, she could still hear the echoes of pages being turned in her imagination; it was if the sounds had gotten lost in the vaulted ceiling and only rarely fell like moon drops to her ears.
But not tonight. Tonight there was someone here. She knew, in that way she did without logic, that he was no danger. But definitely a mystery.
There, by the big window. She felt his presence felt clearly, and raised her head, opening her eyes to see what he looked like. But there was no one there.
The window stood open, the curtains drawn back, letting the occasional rain drop through to land upon the marble floor. She closed her eyes again, and immediately felt his presence, warm and dark, like a hint of cinnamon in the air. Again she looked, to no avail, for there was nothing for her eyes to see.
I must be dreaming, she thought to herself, and laid back down to sleep. That is when she felt him most clearly, very close, yet ephemeral, like mist.
At the first feathers touch of his lips upon her brow, her breathing started to go shallow. The slow brush of fingertips along her cheek, and her pulse quickened.
Slowly his touch traced the lines of her neck, his kiss moving down to land gently upon her eyes still closed. At the edge of her awareness, she could feel his long hair cascading gently upon hers. Her lips parted as his fingertips moved up, to trace the curves behind her ears. Her skin was hot, and the quilts covering her bed suddenly too warm.
She threw them off, realize too late that they may tangle him in their passage. But then she heard them hit the floor, and realized he was not flesh...
But she could still feel his hands upon her, moving through her hair to the edge of her neck. And his lips upon her throat, like silken fire against her skin. Her breath caught as his hands moved down her back, light fingernails tracing either side of her spine.
How is he doing this?, that last conscious part of her mind cried. I can feel the bed beneath me. But she could also feel his touch, as his fingers traced slow circles below the small of her back.
And then his lips brushed across hers. To quickly to return the kiss, the touch at once warm and chill, so that shivers ran down her spine. Her breath caught as his lips returned to her throat, and moved down.
It was as if the night dress she wore were not even there, his kiss gently touching her shoulder. Her mind felt heavy, like a fog, and all she could concentrate on was the touch of his hands as they moved over her hips, to caress her belly.
Passing each other, the kiss and touch changed places, as his lips moved across her skin. His hands now traced the curves of her neck, moving down to brush gently across the tops of her breasts.
Her nipples hardened and her back arched against his lips, as his kiss moved down to her hips, to graze across the inside of her thighs.
Her breath was rapid and shallow, her skin flushed hot beneath his touch, as he slowly traced fingertip circles upon her breasts, the sides, underneath, back to the top, the circle growing nearer to the center with each stroke.
Her nipples were throbbing, and as the back of his hands brushed across them, his lips touched hers. Unable to contain the pleasure, her body shuddered, a wave exploding from deep inside her. She drank hungrily of his kiss, her arms moving to pull him close against her. Her hands pressing against his strong back, her body arched up against him.
Her head was still spinning, and she couldn't think where her nightshirt had gone. But she didn't care, as she felt his skin against hers, his hands moving down her back, to hold her tight.
The heat was building up again inside of her. Just the touch of his hands, the movement of his tongue against hers, the feel of his lips, were enough. Her body shuddered again, and she cried out as she came, the intensity of the pleasure like fire in her heart. He held her close as she rocked against him, her body releasing again and again and again, the waves of pleasure more pure than any she had known...
She could feel her own tears of joy upon her cheek, the waves slowly calming to aftershocks. She still clung to him, no longer in desperation, just to feel him near her. His hands were warm and gentle as they caressed her back, and for the first time in a long, long time, she felt safe.
She snuggled close to him, exhausted by her passion, and held him tightly as she slipped into sleep.
And the last thought, as she drifted off, was to wonder: Who is he? And why did he choose me...?