She did not have room for shame in her. Not now, when there was still so much desire. A melting heat had settled between her legs, and all her skin felt alive and aching for him. She did not know what to do with it if he would not look at her. The blade was still in her fist – it seemed impossible to let it go when she was so exposed – but with her other hand, she brought his touch back to the ache at her breast and waited.

He turned his face to her then, rising up on his elbow. When he brought his mouth to her breast over the linen, her whimper made him clutch her tightly. She shifted to bring her leg over him, rucking up her shift to her hips to straddle him as he sucked at her, fingers twisting in his hair. Already she could feel his manhood stirring again, a gentle pressure on the inside of her thigh that she could not help but rub against.

She grew frantic as his mouth moved on her breast, her throat, his hands brushing leisurely up and down her sides atop the linen. Her hips rocked against him and found pleasure there, a discovery that left her breathless. She slid herself along the length of him, the cleft between her legs gliding across the same path her hand had taken earlier, and felt his moan vibrate through her. God save, she had not thought it could be like this, that her body could feel such things.

It was what she wanted, what her body pleaded of her, when she pulled back and fitted him inside her, hard and hot. She almost sobbed with the pleasure of it. Then his hand came forward to touch her in the place that stole her breath and she bucked against him, uncontrollable waves of sensation that blotted out everything but the feel of him as the pleasure burst inside her. It went on and on, and she groaned as he had done – as he did again now, his hands gripping hard at her hips as he thrust up into her.

The lamp had died out when she came to herself again. His breath was a harsh panting against her neck, her knees around his hips, the rain still falling.

She felt even more untethered from her life, floating free, holding onto him in the blackness. The strong beat of his heart seemed the center of the world. He was a soft place, one where she might at last rest her head and feel safe.

The early morning light was flooding the ruined shed when he woke, naked and alone. His cloak was tucked around him securely, though his last memory was of her body covering his, her cloak spread over them both as he savored the feel of her and thought he could not possibly sleep. Obviously he could.