How have they reached this point so quickly? Eowyn does not know. He is not the only one affected; her skin is hot, and she aches with wanting, with remembering his mouth on her chest earlier, with an emptiness that longs to be filled. She had not realized how quickly this play might overwhelm.

She regrets none of it. She will regret none of it, she is sure, whatever happens. Quite the contrary.

She stretches out alongside him, sometimes watching his face, sometimes watching her hand stroking the hard length of him, now firm and quick and rhythmic, sometimes kissing his face or shoulder. "Do not hold back," she says, her voice low but encouraging. "Oh, my love, do not hold back...!" For she would see him lose control, she would give him all the pleasure she may, would see what he looks like when overcome with bliss.