Those long strokes were both luxury and torture as he initiated her body into accepting every bit of being a woman. She was surprised his lips pressed to her own, seeking an intimacy that seemed to encourage her to become a willing participant instead of a reluctant recipient. How could such an evil, wicked man be like this? She wished beyond all dreams they had met under varied circumstances and he'd been a different person. Would she have desired him as much? Hang on... her mind halted with shock and her body tensed as his pace quickened within her. Her voice lifted, the pleasurable cry prolonged by the duration he kept at it until he slowed. Its tune became tender with the small lick that seemed to draw even more fire within.<br/><br/>Since when had she desired him? Ilona would never admit it to him, would die before speaking the words out loud. The truth would become bound and locked far better than the chastity belt had. Their fingers wove together so that she felt more of the full weight of him against her. It was not unpleasant to feel their skins rub along one another as he'd notice her hips now shifting a little on their own. He'd told her she could be anyone she wanted with this, telling her it would happen whether she did or not. Ilona was glad she had chosen to enter into this with open eyes. The heat of this, the beauty of this dance despite all else. She now understood why poets wove this into so many of their works.<br/><br/>"Aerill... I hate you," she whispered just before a moan overtook her voice. Is that what he wanted to hear as she now listened to the voice her body sang? Her fingers gripped his ever strong and it was as if she encouraged him to move even faster. Did she know it might end all this quicker? Or, was it he had found a pace that had her hips off the bed and her legs wider that he might continue? Either way, he'd seduced her body just as he'd set out to do.