Éowyn knew people thought her cold and distant, the icy White Lady. In reality she was a voluptuary. The slightest caress of her husband's hand, a hint of his scent or the low rumble of his voice in her ear sent shivers up her spine. Add to that the scent of the grasslands and the flicker of torchlight on Faramir's skin, and she was lost, her moans filling the night air.
He stopped and looked in her eyes. "Shall I continue?"
She gave him a pointed look that made him chuckle and he dipped his head back to his task.