He had called her his treasure. She supposed that was true for the only love she’d ever known was of her parents and sister. But that was a lifetime ago and there was no use dwelling on things that could not be. This was her purpose in life now, to be a proper mate to the man who had, in a sense, saved her very existence. If she was his treasure, then he was her salvation.
Laying on his back, he nudged her body over his, moving her around until she was straddling his stomach and facing his feet. His thick member was pressed against her womanly folds, warm and pulsing and she gasped at the sensation. His hands wrapped around her hips and held her as he slowly canted his hips upward, sliding against her moistening heat. Her eyes slid closed and her head fell back against her shoulders, her hair lightly brushing against his chest as it flowed behind her. He caught her lips in a kiss that set her soul aflame with desire.

Her skin glowing, her body throbbing, she moaned lightly as her hips rolled over his. There was something about this that seemed instinctual, though she’d never been the initiator of sex before. It was as if this was something her body already knew how to do, despite the newness of it. She slid forward against him, then back until the head of him was set to press inside of her. She inhaled sharply at the feel of him, poised at her entrance. And how she wanted him with every fiber of her being.
She rose upward a fair bit and slid down slowly, feeling the press of him against her. She wanted this…wanted him. Her body vibrated over him and it seemed the universe held its collective breath to see what would happen next. She pressed down, feeling him press hard. There was a dull pain as she did this, but she didn’t let it stop her. Pain she was used to. Her body’s natural response acted as a lubricant and not even a moment more, with a slight pop, he was inside of her. She gasped, her eyes flying open, and if one were to look, they would see that her pupils were blown with desire and need. A low moan teased her lips. She paused in her movements, body straining to adjust to his thick girth. He was only a few inches within her and yet she felt every single inch of him as if he were fully seated. Her fingers were clenched in the meat of his thighs beneath her as her body slowly began to adjust, allowing him to slide into her inch by agonizing inch. He must have had the willpower of the gods to simply lay beneath and not just thrust forcefully into her and causing her irreparable harm.
When there was but a few inches left between her and the ultimate pleasure, she took fate into her hands and pressed down and hard. She cried out as he breached her fully, the light of her magic making her skin glow brightly. Her head fell forward, her shoulders shaking with suppressed need as she throbbed around him.
“Ussta ssinssrigg, ussta ssinssrin, ussta ssrig’luin.” (“My love, my desire, my need.”) she moaned, her voice taking on a husky quality never heard before. The glow of her light was bright and to anyone passing by their tent, it would look as if the fires had been banked high within.
Feminine instinct took over and Ilyra began to move her hips in a sensuous dance. Her body, long suppressed by her slavery, moved of it’s own accord, rotating over Tagor’s as she pressed her hands behind her against his chest. She moaned as she felt the press of his hard length against that spot within her that had her seeing stars. He allowed her to set her own pace, growing more and more comfortable with her own body and what it desired.
“Tagor…love me…” she breathed, her body straining for a release of not only body, but mind and soul. To be truly connected to her mate on the most intimate of levels.
Would he give her what she sought? Would he take his pleasure and not allow her to achieve her own? Or would it be a mutual release, design to connect them on a level neither had felt before.
The air was heavy with the magic leeching from her body, little pinpoints of light dancing around the tent and caressing against Tagor’s bronzed skin. It wasn’t painful, far from it. Every move she felt, he felt in return. It was as if he were seeing what she was seeing, feeling what she was feeling, as they were no longer two separate entities but one mind, body, heart and soul.
A light sheen of perspiration coated her skin as her passions ignited. She was breathless with feeling so much at once, she felt lost. His hands on her skin kept her anchored in the here and now. The tension she’d been dealing with for so long began to ebb away under his tender mercies.