The hooves of Rhaegar's stallion barely made a sound on the soft forest floor as he followed the mysterious knight at a safe distance. The afternoon sun filtered through the ancient trees of the forest surrounding Harrenhal, casting dancing shadows that helped conceal his pursuit. The Knight of the Laughing Tree had captured his attention - there was something peculiar about how they rode, how they moved. Too graceful for a common warrior, too skilled to be a simple hedge knight. After watching them defeat three knights in succession, his curiosity had got the better of him.
The knight dismounted in a small clearing, where a creek's gentle burble masked any ambient sounds. Rhaegar concealed himself behind a massive oak, his violet eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. The mysterious knight began removing their armour piece by piece, seemingly struggling with the weight. First came the helm with its laughing weirwood design. A cascade of dark hair tumbled free, and Rhaegar's breath caught in his throat.
Lyanna Stark stood there, her face flushed from exertion, her grey eyes wild with the thrill of victory. She was even more beautiful than he remembered from the feast - no longer the proper lady in silks, but a warrior maiden in disguise. "Seven hells," she muttered, wrestling with a particularly stubborn pauldron. "How do men wear these torture devices daily?"
Rhaegar couldn't help but smile. He stepped out from his hiding place, deliberately snapping a twig to announce his presence. Lyanna whirled around, her hand instinctively reaching for her sword. When she recognized him, her eyes widened with alarm.
"Your Grace!" She dropped into an awkward curtsy, still half-armoured. "I can explain-"
"My lady," Rhaegar said softly, approaching her with raised hands. "Please, there's no need for formalities. Though I must say, your swordplay was exceptional."
A blush crept across her cheeks, but her chin lifted defiantly. "Those squires needed to be taught a lesson. They were tormenting my father's bannerman, Howland Reed."
"So you took it upon yourself to defend the honour of your father's man?" Rhaegar moved closer, helping her remove the troublesome pauldron. His fingers brushed against her shoulder, and he felt her shiver. "Most ladies would have sent their brothers."
"I'm not most ladies," Lyanna retorted, then bit her lip. "Will you tell? About who I am?"
Rhaegar studied her face - the determination in those storm-grey eyes, the wild beauty that seemed to radiate from within. "Your secret is safe with me, my lady. Though I must admit, finding you here like this..." He trailed off, his hand still resting on her shoulder.
"Like what?" Lyanna challenged, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. The air between them crackled with tension.
"Like a warrior queen of old," he murmured, his thumb tracing the delicate line of her jaw. "Like Visenya herself, perhaps." His other hand came up to cup her cheek, and she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her grey eyes darkening with desire. Rhaegar couldn't help but admire her exquisite, untamed northern beauty. Her dark hair fell in wild waves around her face, still damp with sweat from the tourney. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the padded gambeson, and a small cut on her lower lip from the fight made her look even more irresistible.
"You're staring, Your Grace," Lyanna whispered, a hint of challenge in her voice.
"Rhaegar," he corrected softly. "Just Rhaegar here." His fingers tangled in her hair, drawing her closer. "And how could I not stare? You're magnificent."
She laughed, a sound like silver bells that made his heart race. "Magnificent? I'm sweaty and dirty and half-dressed in men's armour."
"Yes," he growled, pressing his forehead to hers. "And I've never wanted anyone more in my life." His lips found hers again, and this time there was nothing gentle about it. Lyanna matched his passion with her own, her fingers gripping his silver-white hair as she pulled him closer. The taste of her - wild honey and something uniquely her own - drove him mad with desire.
"We shouldn't," she gasped between kisses, even as her hands worked at the laces of his doublet. "The realm..."
"Damn the realm," Rhaegar muttered against her throat, where he was leaving a trail of heated kisses. "Damn prophecies, damn duties, damn everything but this moment." His hands moved with increasing urgency to help her remove the rest of her armour. The steel breastplate was first - his fingers working the leather straps at her sides while she fumbled with the ones at her shoulders. The piece was heavy, and as it fell with a dull thud to the forest floor, Lyanna drew in a deep breath, finally free of its constricting weight.
"Let me," Rhaegar whispered, his voice husky as he moved to the chainmail. The metal links clinked softly as he lifted it over her head, his knuckles deliberately brushing against her sides. She shivered at his touch, her grey eyes dark with anticipation. The padded gambeson came next. His fingers worked at the laces with practiced ease, though they trembled slightly with barely contained desire. As each eyelet came undone, more of her thin linen shirt was revealed underneath.
"You're shaking," Lyanna observed softly, her own hands coming up to help with the laces.
"You do this to me," he admitted, finally pushing the gambeson off her shoulders. It fell forgotten atop the other pieces of armour. The sight of her in just the sweat-soaked shirt nearly undid him. The thin fabric clung to every curve of her body, leaving little to imagination. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath, the material growing more transparent where it was wettest.
"Gods," he breathed, his hands sliding up her sides, feeling the heat of her skin through the damp linen. "You're perfect." His fingers found the hem of her shirt, pulling it slowly upward. Lyanna raised her arms, allowing him to draw it over her head. The garment joined the growing pile of discarded armour. She stood before him in just her breast bindings - long strips of white linen wrapped tightly around her chest.
"You're staring again," she whispered, a blush creeping across her pale skin.
"How could I not?" Rhaegar's voice was rough with desire as his hands traced the edge of the bindings. "You're more beautiful than any dream." His fingers found the end of the wrapping at her back. "May I?"
"Wait," Lyanna said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, catching his wrist. "These damned greaves are killing me. Help me with those first?" She lifted one leg slightly, the steel plates protecting her shins catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves.
"As my lady commands," Rhaegar smirked, dropping to one knee before her. His fingers worked at the leather straps behind her calves, deliberately taking his time. "These are quite well-fitted for borrowed armour."
"I may have... adjusted them myself," Lyanna admitted, steadying herself with a hand on his shoulder as he removed the first greave. "A lady needs to be prepared."
"Prepared to challenge three knights in succession?" His hands slid up her calf as he removed the padding underneath, making her shiver. "Or prepared to drive princes to madness?"
"Perhaps both," she gasped as his lips brushed the inside of her knee while he worked on the second greave. "Though I didn't plan on the latter."
"No?" His fingers lingered on her leg as the last piece of armour fell away. "And yet here we are..." He looked up at her from his position at her feet, his violet eyes dark with desire. "Shall we return to where we were?" His hands slid higher, past her knees to her thighs.
Lyanna's fingers flew to the thick leather belt at her waist, fumbling with the heavy bronze buckle. "Help me with this too," she breathed, her voice husky with anticipation. The belt finally came loose with a satisfying clunk. Rhaegar's hands replaced hers at her hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of the padded breeches. He pulled them down slowly, revealing her long, pale legs inch by inch. The heavy fabric pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of them gracefully.
"You move like a dancer," he murmured, his hands sliding back up her calves, past her knees, to caress her thighs. She stood before him now in just her breast bindings and thin smallclothes, her skin glowing in the filtered forest light.
"I had a dancing master," she said with a playful smile, running her fingers through his silver-white hair. "Though I doubt he meant for me to use those lessons like this." Without warning, Rhaegar leaned forward, his hot breath ghosting across her inner thigh before his lips pressed against the sensitive skin there. Lyanna gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair as he traced a path of hungry kisses up her thigh.
"Rhaegar," she moaned softly, her head falling back against the tree trunk. Her legs trembled as his mouth moved higher, his teeth grazing her skin.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured against her flesh, though his actions grew bolder with each kiss. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as she swayed.
"Don't you dare," she breathed, her voice thick with desire. She could feel his smile against her skin as he continued his passionate assault. Her smallclothes were damp now, not from sweat but from the heat building between her legs. Pleased with the effect he had on her, Rhaegar traced a path upward with his lips, savouring the salt of her skin. When he reached her navel, he placed a lingering kiss just above it, feeling her stomach muscles flutter beneath his touch. His hands slid up her sides as he slowly rose to his full height, pressing her gently against the tree trunk.
"My wild wolf," he whispered, before capturing her lips in a tender kiss that contrasted sharply with his previous urgency. She melted into him, her hands sliding around his neck as she returned the kiss with equal gentleness. The taste of her lips - sweet like summer wine - made his head spin.
"Is this what it feels like in the songs?" she murmured against his mouth, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "When the dragon steals the maiden?"
He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. "I rather think the wolf has stolen the dragon in this tale." His other hand splayed across her lower back, pulling her closer against him. "And I'm gladly captured."
She gasped as she felt his hardness through his clothes, pressing against her barely-covered form. "Then perhaps," she breathed, her grey eyes dark with desire, "the dragon should claim his prize properly."
His lips found hers again in a searing kiss as his fingers sought the end of her breast bindings. This time, she didn't stop him. The fabric unwound slowly, each turn revealing more of her creamy skin until finally, the last of the linen fell away. Rhaegar drew back slightly, his breath catching at the sight of her bare breasts. They were full and perfect, rising and falling rapidly with each breath she took. Her nipples were hard and puffy from the cool air and his touch, a dusky rose colour that made his mouth water.
"Please," she whimpered as his thumbs brushed over the sensitive peaks. "Don't tease." He lowered his head, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled around it as he suckled gently, drawing a long moan from her throat. Her fingers tangled in his silver hair, holding him closer as he lavished attention on her breast. The tight bud began to soften under his ministrations, becoming even more sensitive.
"Rhaegar," she gasped as he switched to her other breast, giving it the same devoted attention. Her back arched, pressing herself further into his mouth as he suckled and licked, reducing her to wordless whimpers.
When he finally released her nipple with a soft pop, both peaks were soft and glistening, flushed an even darker pink from his attention. "Beautiful," he murmured, placing gentle kisses between her breasts.
"Too many clothes," Lyanna growled impatiently, her fingers clutching at his tunic. She tugged at the fabric, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Her hands slipped beneath the hem, feeling the hard planes of his stomach as he continued to worship her breasts with his mouth.
"Gods, Rhaegar," she moaned as his tongue flicked across one sensitive peak again. Her fingers fumbled with the laces of his shirt, growing more frustrated as his ministrations made it hard to focus. "Help me with this before I tear it off."
He chuckled against her skin, the vibration making her gasp. "Such impatience," he murmured, trailing kisses across the swell of her breast. "Is this how a proper lady behaves?"
"I'm no proper lady," she panted, finally managing to loosen his laces. "And you're wearing far too much." She yanked at his tunic again, more insistently this time. Her nipples brushed against the rough fabric as she pressed closer, making her shiver with need.
His teeth grazed the sensitive underside of her breast as his hands joined hers at his clothes. "As my wolf commands," he breathed against her skin, straightening just enough to help her pull the garment over his head. Lyanna's breath caught as his chest was revealed - pale and muscled, with a light dusting of silvery hair trailing down his stomach. Her hands explored eagerly as he worked at the laces of his breeches, feeling the way his muscles tensed under her touch.
"Let me," she whispered, batting his hands away to undo the laces herself. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pushed the fabric down his hips. Her grey eyes widened as his manhood sprang free, impressive in both length and girth. The sight made her mouth go dry - he was truly dragon-blooded in every way.
"See something you like, my lady?" Rhaegar smirked, though his voice was rough with desire. He stepped out of his breeches and boots, standing gloriously naked before her in the dappled sunlight. His pale skin seemed to glow, muscles rippling as he moved to spread his heavy black cloak on the forest floor.
"You're beautiful," she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from his magnificent form. Her gaze kept returning to his impressive length, already hard and straining toward her. A pearl of moisture glistened at the tip.
He pulled her into his arms, skin against skin at last. "Not half as beautiful as you," he murmured against her lips, before laying her down on the soft cloak. The fabric still held his warmth as he covered her body with his own. His kiss was fierce and demanding, claiming her mouth as his hands roamed her body. She arched into his touch, gasping against his lips as his fingers traced paths of fire across her skin. Slowly, torturously, he began to move lower, his mouth following the trail his hands had blazed.
"Please," she whimpered as his lips brushed the valley between her breasts, then lower still to her stomach. Her hands fisted in his silver hair as he continued his descent, marking her with kisses and gentle bites that made her squirm beneath him. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, looking up at her with those intense violet eyes. She felt like a deer caught in a dragon's gaze - prey, but willingly so. The thought sent shivers of anticipation through her entire body.
"Tell me what you want, my wolf," he breathed against her inner thigh, his hot breath making her tremble. His hands slid under her hips, lifting her slightly as he settled between her legs.
"You," she gasped, her body already writhing in anticipation. "Your mouth... please, Rhaegar..."
He smiled against her skin, a predatory grin that made her breath catch. "As my lady commands," he murmured, before lowering his head to taste her.
His tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along her slit, making her whole body shudder with pleasure. She was already dripping wet, her essence coating his tongue as he savoured her sweet, musky taste. "Delicious," he growled against her sensitive flesh, before diving back in with renewed hunger.
"Gods!" Lyanna cried out as his tongue delved deeper, exploring every fold and crevice of her sex. Her hips bucked against his face, but his strong hands held her firmly in place as he feasted on her. His skilled tongue found that sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex, circling it before sucking it between his lips.
"Rhaegar, please," she moaned, her fingers tangling in his silver hair as he devoured her with passionate abandon. His tongue alternated between thrusting inside her and flicking across her clit, driving her wild with need. Each stroke of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. He hummed against her flesh, the vibrations making her gasp. His hands slid under her thighs, spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper between her legs. She could feel his hot breath against her most intimate parts as he lapped at her hungrily, like a man dying of thirst.
"Don't stop," she pleaded, her back arching off the cloak as his tongue worked magic between her thighs. "Please, don't ever stop..." Rhaegar worshipped her with his mouth like she was indeed his queen, his goddess, his everything. His tongue traced intricate patterns over her swollen flesh, alternating between broad strokes that made her moan and precise flicks that had her crying out his name. Her thighs trembled around his head as he devoured her with passionate devotion.
"So sweet," he murmured against her wet flesh, before plunging his tongue deep inside her. Her walls clenched around the intrusion as he tasted her essence, drinking in every drop of her arousal. His nose brushed against her sensitive bud with each thrust of his tongue, making her writhe beneath him.
"Rhaegar!" she gasped, her hips rolling against his face as he sucked her clit between his lips. Her hands tightened in his hair, holding him closer as he lavished attention on that sensitive pearl. His tongue swirled around it in tight circles before flicking rapidly across it, drawing desperate whimpers from her throat. He slipped two fingers inside her while his mouth continued its sweet torture, curling them upward to stroke that special spot within. The combination of his fingers pumping in and out while his tongue worked her clit had her seeing stars.
"My queen," he breathed against her sensitive flesh, his hot breath making her shiver. "Come for me. Let me taste all of you..." His words, combined with the relentless attention of his tongue and fingers, pushed her over the edge. Lyanna's back arched sharply off the cloak as waves of pleasure crashed through her body. She cried out his name, her thighs clamping around his head as she gushed against his eager mouth, her release flooding his face and dripping down his chin.
"Yes, give me everything," he growled, lapping hungrily at her flowing nectar. Her body convulsed with each stroke of his tongue, more of her essence spilling forth as her climax seemed to go on forever. She could feel her juices running down her thighs, soaking into the cloak beneath her.
"Rhaegar!" she sobbed, her fingers tangled in his silver hair as he continued to drink from her like a man possessed. Her hips bucked wildly against his face as another wave of pleasure hit her, causing another flood of her arousal to coat his lips and chin.
When she finally came down from her high, she was trembling and gasping for breath. Rhaegar lifted his head, his face glistening with her release, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Now that," he purred, licking his lips, "is how a queen should come."
She flushed deeply, both from pleasure and slight embarrassment at how wet she'd got. "I've never... that's never happened before..."
He kissed her deeply, making her taste herself on his tongue as he settled between her thighs. His impressive length pressed against her still-sensitive flesh, making her gasp into his mouth.
"Wait," she breathed, breaking the kiss. "I should tell you... you needn't be gentle. My maidenhead is long gone." She delivered the practiced lie about horseback riding, though her mind briefly flashed to memories of stolen moments in the stables - rough hands, hay in her hair, and stifled moans as the stable boy took her against the wall. She'd been the one to seduce him, after watching him work shirtless one hot summer day.
Rhaegar's knowing smirk told her he didn't quite believe the horseback tale, but he seemed more amused than bothered. "Is that so?" he murmured, nipping at her neck as he positioned himself at her entrance. "Then I won't hold back..." His cock slid easily through her wetness, making her moan as he teased her sensitive flesh. She could feel him throbbing against her, impossibly hard and eager to claim her fully.
"Please," she whimpered, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer. "I need you inside me..." With one smooth thrust, he claimed her completely. They both gasped at the exquisite sensation - she at the delicious stretch of his impressive girth filling her so perfectly, he at the tight, wet heat that enveloped him like a silken glove.
"Gods, Lyanna," he groaned against her lips, his voice rough with pleasure. "You feel incredible... like you were made for me." His hips remained still as he let her adjust to his size, though she could feel him throbbing inside her, eager to move.
She rolled her hips experimentally, drawing a sharp hiss from him. "So do you," she breathed, amazed at how perfectly they fit together. There was no pain, only pure pleasure as her body welcomed him eagerly. "Like the gods themselves designed us for each other." He captured her lips in a searing kiss as he began to move, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in with agonizing slowness. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through her entire body, making her arch beneath him. Their fingers intertwined above her head, palms pressing together as he pinned her hands to the cloak. The intimate gesture made her heart flutter even as his cock drove her wild with need. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust, changing the angle just enough to make her cry out as he hit that perfect spot inside her.
"Yes," she moaned, squeezing his hands as he filled her again and again. "Right there... don't stop..." Her walls clenched around him, drawing a deep groan from his throat.
"Never," he promised, his voice rough with passion. "I'll never stop... you're mine now, my wolf." His thrusts grew harder, more demanding, making her breasts bounce with each powerful movement of his hips. She arched up to capture his lips again, drinking in his moans as their tongues danced together. Their joined hands tightened their grip, knuckles white with the intensity of their passion. Every nerve in her body sang with pleasure as he claimed her completely.
"Yours," she gasped against his mouth. "All yours... and you're mine..." She locked her ankles behind his back, urging him even deeper as pressure began building low in her belly once more. His thrusts became faster, more urgent, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. Each powerful stroke drove deeper than the last, making her cry out in ecstasy. Their joined hands gripped tighter as pleasure built between them like a gathering storm.
"My wolf queen," he growled against her lips between searing kisses. "So perfect... so tight... taking me so well..." His words dissolved into passionate moans as she clenched around him, her inner walls gripping his length like a velvet vice.
She broke their kiss to throw her head back, exposing her throat which he immediately attacked with lips and teeth. "Rhaegar!" she cried out as he hit that sweet spot inside her repeatedly. "I'm so close... please don't stop..." The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the clearing, mixing with their increasingly desperate moans and gasps. Sweat gleamed on their bodies as they moved together, driving each other toward the peak of pleasure.
"Come for me again," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Let me feel you fall apart around me..." His pace grew even more frantic, each thrust pushing her closer to the edge. The pleasure was overwhelming, building higher and higher until she thought she might shatter from the intensity. Every nerve ending in her body was aflame with ecstasy as he drove into her relentlessly. Her walls began to flutter around his length, drawing desperate groans from both of them.
"Rhaegar!" she screamed as the dam finally broke. Her release crashed over her like a tidal wave, her inner muscles clamping down on him rhythmically as she gushed around his cock. Her back arched sharply off the cloak, her body convulsing with the force of her climax. The sight and feel of her coming undone beneath him pushed him over the edge. With a primal roar, he buried himself to the hilt inside her and exploded, filling her with hot spurts of his seed. His hips jerked erratically as he emptied himself deep within her welcoming heat, their combined essence dripping down her thighs.
"Lyanna... gods... my queen..." he gasped, collapsing onto her as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through them both. Their joined hands finally released their grip, fingers tingling as circulation returned. She held him close as they caught their breath, her legs still wrapped around him, neither wanting to break their intimate connection just yet. His cock twitched inside her occasionally, drawing little whimpers from her oversensitive flesh.
"That was..." she breathed, unable to find words adequate to describe what they'd just shared.
"Perfect," he finished for her, lifting his head to capture her lips in a tender kiss. "You're perfect." His hand came up to cup her face, thumb gently stroking her flushed cheek as he kissed her with an entirely different kind of passion than before. Where their previous kisses had been desperate and consuming, this was slow, deep, almost reverent. His tongue explored her mouth unhurriedly, as if memorizing every detail, drawing soft sighs from her throat. She melted into his touch, her own hands sliding up to tangle in his silver hair, still damp with sweat from their lovemaking. Their bodies remained joined, his softening length still nestled within her, creating an intimacy that felt almost more profound than the passionate coupling they'd just shared.
"I never knew it could be like this," she whispered against his lips between kisses. "So complete... so right..."
He pulled back just enough to gaze into her eyes, his own filled with an emotion that made her heart skip. "Neither did I," he admitted softly, pressing his forehead to hers. "I've never felt so... connected to anyone." Their lips met again, and she could taste the truth of his words in the tender way he kissed her. His hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, cradling her head as their mouths moved together in perfect harmony. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, gradually slowing to match her own rhythm.
Reality began seeping back in like a cold dawn, yet neither could bear to break their embrace. The weight of what they'd done settled over them - the Crown Prince and the Stark maiden, both promised to others, having just committed what the realm would call treason. But their bodies refused to separate, still intimately joined, as if knowing this connection was too precious to sever.
"We shouldn't have..." she whispered against his lips, even as her fingers tightened in his hair, unwilling to let him go. "But I can't regret it. I won't."
"Nor will I," he breathed, punctuating his words with another deep kiss. "Let them call it treason. My heart knows this is right." His thumb traced her lower lip as he gazed into her eyes. "You are meant to be mine, Lyanna Stark. I felt it the moment I saw you."
She knew she should push him away, should think of her betrothed, of his wife, of their families' honour. Instead, she pulled him closer, wrapping herself around him more tightly. "What are we going to do?" she asked softly, though her body had already made its choice.
"Run away with me," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Let me crown you with winter roses every day for the rest of our lives." His kisses grew more urgent again, as if trying to convince her with his lips what words alone couldn't express.
She could feel him hardening again inside her, making her gasp softly as desire rekindled despite the gravity of their situation. "They'll hunt us down," she warned, even as her hips rolled against his instinctively. "Start a war..."
"Then let them come," he growled, claiming her mouth once more as his hands began to roam her body with renewed purpose. "You're worth any war..."
They lost themselves in each other again and again as the afternoon waned, their lovemaking evolving from desperate passion to tender exploration and back again. Each time they joined felt like discovering something new - a sensitive spot behind her ear that made her moan, the way he shuddered when she raked her nails down his back, how perfectly they moved together when she straddled his hips and took control. The sun was casting long shadows through the trees when they finally collapsed together one last time, both thoroughly spent and marked by each other's passion. Lyanna's neck and breasts bore the evidence of his attention, while his back was decorated with the crescents of her fingernails.
"We should return," she whispered reluctantly, watching the dying sunlight play across his silver hair. "They'll be looking for us soon." Yet she made no move to disentangle herself from his embrace.
Rhaegar pressed soft kisses along her collarbone, as if trying to memorize the taste of her skin. "Let me look at you just a moment longer," he murmured. "You're so beautiful like this - flushed and satisfied, wearing nothing but my marks and the sunset."
She blushed but didn't shy away from his gaze. "And whose fault is that, my prince?" She traced a particularly vivid love bite on his shoulder. "You don't look much more presentable yourself." With visible reluctance, he finally withdrew from her body, both of them gasping softly at the loss of connection. Their combined essence trickled down her thighs as she sat up, making her cheeks flame anew.
"Here," he said softly, using a corner of the cloak to gently clean her skin. The tender gesture nearly brought tears to her eyes - this powerful man, this dragon prince, taking such care with her. They dressed slowly, helping each other with laces and clasps, stealing kisses between each item of clothing restored. When they were finally decent again, he pulled her close one last time.
"This isn't the end," he promised fiercely. "I won't let it be. Whatever comes next, remember this day. Remember how perfectly we fit together, how right this feels."
She pressed her forehead to his chest, breathing in his scent. "I couldn't forget if I tried," she whispered. "But what happens now?"
"Now we plan," he said, tilting her chin up for one more kiss. "Meet me here again tomorrow. We'll find a way to be together properly, I swear it."
As they made their way back to camp separately, she could still feel him with every step - the pleasant ache between her thighs, the tenderness of her well-kissed lips, the marks of passion hidden beneath her clothes. Whatever consequences awaited them, she knew with absolute certainty that she would never regret this afternoon.