Isabella could see the lust in the man's body. His length was stiff with want for her expertly kept body, and she could see how taut he was with his restraint. It was a terribly amusing thing, to keep him lusting after her even when he was fighting his monstrous lust. She could see the fire in his eyes, his desire all open to her. And she was there, ready for him to take her as he had before. Now, his passions seemed stronger. It was not out of love, no - Isabella would never allow such a thing to ever happen again. His passion was from something else, from his raging lust. Had he been holding back before she had arrived on the lands, carrying all her skills with her? Now why on earth would he want to do something like that? Sex was the best thing for a person. Isabella saw how it relieved those with stressful lives, those with minds busy with too many thoughts, and even helped the vitality of men beginning to feel their age. Hearts pounded strong beneath her hands many times and never did a man walk away from her satisfied. This man had held back before her arrival in Salsola and now he unleashed it all on her. How delicious.
A growl made her raise bi-colored eyes to the man's facial features rather than his bulging manhood. Her coquettish grin changed to a startled, albeit excited, look as the man grabbed her by the waist and pulled her with ease to the pile of pelts he called his bed. She fell on it with gratitude, letting her arms spread out around her. She crossed an ankle over the other, and let her curves fall naturally as her eyes explored the scarred man's body with a roving hunger. This sort of thing always excited her, when a man was strong and handsome. Sirius showed that he had the strength to move her physically, and that added a dangerous element. He had moved her as though she were naught but a light bag of silks. He could kill her easily. Her own lust was escalating and she felt the familiar pangs of desire coiling and uncoiling in her belly. This man was worthy of her body.
There were no words, even as he descended upon her inviting body. His breath was hot on her flesh, and his body radiated heat that was all too tangible above her. Isabella's belly filled with fire. She growled as he touched her breasts with his teeth. It was not in pain but in glorious excitement. He was delaying the inevitable, and every man longed to see their partner lust for them too. Some men did not, but Isabella never worked with them; they were rapists not sexual partners. This was a union of two, a dance between them. The men usually led but the women could still keep him turning for her.
Isabella let her fingers go to his hair, running them roughly through it as she gave light moans to the man's efforts. Encouragement was always good, though this man was already hard for her. She was beyond ready for it, too. "My lord," she said, voice low and husky for a woman's.
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