Let Me [2]

If home was not a place, but a destination, he would be a place of solitude for her. 

Killorn helped dry Ophelia from the bath. Wind howled outside of the walls, snow beginning their descendant, washing white over blood. As a storm began to rage upon Mavez Dukedom, nothing could match the fierceness of the master bedroom.

Wooden logs burned into charcoal, sliding and falling against the flames, evoking embers in the air. Killorn bent and kissed his wife, his lips tender on her forehead. Through her shaky breath, she savored the moment. It was skin upon skin, her back on the mattress, and his powerful body on top of hers. She was completely and utterly dominated by this man, but somehow, felt no terror.