onto the bed properly. Her legs separated and her knees slid in beside my hips.
“So let’s save any more… probing… on the matter for another time, milord.”
With a free hand she pulled away the sheet that separated us and settled on top of me. A little moan of satisfaction escaped her lips—a portion of the performance or not, I no longer cared—and then she was tilting her head back and panting and I was lifting myself up to meet her downward thrusts.
And my last cogent thought, before I gave in to what would be a largely mindless afternoon of carnality, was that I was very glad Rowena found my explanation satisfactory. Because the last thing I wanted was to have to tell her the truth: some gods were more real than others.
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