The Roots of the Ivy and Other Stories of Middle-Earth

She had never dreamed it would be like this, this overwhelming pleasure that gripped her. Her body had transformed, sensitive now to every little touch of his fingers, the slightest puff of breath, the quick flick of a tongue. She writhed under his touch, moaning, needing, and she nearly cried in relief when he finally moved over her and settled between her ready thighs. She moved to match his rhythm, her hands grasping at his back, urging him to give her more. He came, shouting her name, and she felt powerful, knowing she could give him such pleasure in return.