The phrase Make her full of child came to mind, though the words didn't seem to be his own.

When he opened his eyes again it was no longer just stones surrounding them. Five people in white cloaks stood between each stone, arms across their chests and hands tucked into their sleeves like monks. He couldn't see their faces, hidden within the deep shadows of their hoods. But he knew they were watching.

"Wait—" he said, pulling his lips only partway from hers.

With her free hand Sheila took his and slipped it down the front of her pants. He felt pubic hair stubble, then wet heat. He parted the labia, unable to stop himself. She moaned into his kiss as he found her clit with his middle finger and rubbed.

His defenses entirely broken, he unbuttoned her pants and peeled them down over her hips, pulling the panties down with them. He slipped a finger inside of her. She bucked against his palm, licking a trail of salt water up his neck.

Hot breath in his ear now, panting. She grabbed his jeans and jerked them down, guided him into her. Scalding in contrast to her ice-cold hands. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

The cloaked beings watched them. Their silent, eyeless gaze disturbing, a distraction from the business at hand. He focused on the black stone directly ahead of him, seemingly pulsing in time with the rhythm of their hips.

In a moment he forgot all about the watchful entities—not humans, he sensed that much—and threw himself fully into his work. Their grunts and cries of pleasure, the slap of flesh on flesh barely audible above the steady crash of waves against the shore.

A sudden jolt of pain in his right hand drew his gaze from the pulsating stone. Sheila had torn the bandage off. She brought his palm to her mouth and her tongue flicked out, tasting the wound. She raised his hand to his lips and the coppery tang of blood filled his mouth.

He thrust harder, countering his pain with hers.

Her moans intensified. She bit her lip. He couldn't hold back any longer. Didn't want to. His whole body shuddered as he came inside of her. She bucked against his hips until she was coming along with him.

Finally the spell was broken. They fell against the rock, half-naked and sweaty, breathing raggedly, sticky with each other's fluids.

Only the five stones circled them. The cloaked figures were gone.

They were alone again. Free.

Sheila backstepped away from him suddenly and stumbled, her pants bunched around her ankles. She hiked them back up over her hips, fear and confusion in her eyes. He tucked himself into his boxers and zipped the fly of his jeans.

"We shouldn't have done that," she said, not meeting his gaze.

"No. We probably shouldn't have."

"I don't know what came over me." She was still catching her breath. "It's like I was looking out through someone else's eyes."