Not Magic Enough and Setting Boundaries - By Valerie Douglas Page 0,12

like this, so beautiful, so wonderful. The few times her husband had touched her had seemed like nothing more than the mindless rutting of the beasts in the field. Instead her body still seemed to echo with their joined pleasure even as it hummed through her veins - their bodies still locked together.

When Dorovan could finally move - still buried inside her - he inched them up the bed so they were completely in it and then drew the covers over them, cradling Delae close.

He looked down at her, brushed the fiery strands of her hair from her face gently, pausing a moment to muse at the one curled around his finger. A smile curved his mouth.

“You are a part of my heart,” he said, in wonder, “as my people say a friend-of-my-heart.”

It wasn’t a soul-bond, but it was a bond of a kind and a true one, something he’d thought unknown and possibly impossible with one of the race of men. Yet it was there, unmistakably there. It was far more than he’d had and with Delae, this woman of men who was a wonder and a joy to him, who knew Honor as his people did, who was a balm to his heart.

As he was to hers.

Impossible as it was, it was what it was and for all the difficulty of it, all the difficulty it would bring him, Dorovan couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry for it.

Delae looked up at him, hearing in the tenderness in his voice all she needed to hear, all she could accept. It was enough and more than enough. Her heart filled, where it had been empty for so long.

“Friend of the heart,” she said, softly, a smile curving her lips. “Yes, you are.”

And he was.

Chapter Three

Outside the storm raged, rattling the shutters, sending blasts of cold through the gaps between them. Awakening with Delae’s soft, sweetly scented body against his was a delight. Dorovan found it wasn’t just her hair that glowed so warmly but her body, too. She was like a small banked fire that radiated heat. Gently drawing her against him - he nestled himself between her smooth thighs and sleepily stroked her, cupping the full globes of her breasts in his hands. She was delightful as she shivered to awareness - her body heating for him in quite another way, growing tantalizingly damp.

Delae found herself aching to be filled and then Dorovan’s hand slid down her belly to comb through the tight curls between her thighs.

It was breathtaking as he touched her - coaxed her body to fire and then to flame at the very moment he entered her. A soft cry burst from her as he drove deeply into her.

Almost desperately, Delae pressed back - the heat inside her a demand which needed to be answered.

She was so wet and so very warm and she’d so needed to be filled.

Her soft cry fired Dorovan’s blood and he answered it, touching her lightly, caressing her until her body hummed, until she tightened around him again as he thrust inside her.

He felt her body tremble and he was lost, exploding inside her, filling her in quite another way.

Delae had never felt so sated, so thoroughly eased. She smiled and sighed.

In all her years, in that moment she knew true happiness for the first time, a peace and a joy that had always been denied her.

More than content, Dorovan drew her against him, still inside her and quite pleased to be there. He opened his eyes.

Now there was time for details.

Her bedchamber was like her, small, warm and welcoming. There were touches of Delae here, dried sweet herbs in a bowl on the mantel that lent their scent to the room. Simple but brightly dyed draperies the color of sunset covered the windows, a small tapestry hung from on a wall.

There was a sword behind her door. A simple but serviceable enough weapon.

Studying it, puzzled, he asked with a nod of his head toward it, “Why do you have a sword behind your door?”

With a small shrug, she said, “We live far from aid and there’s no one else. So it’s there… in case.”

Delae didn’t mention it was there for other reasons, that one was enough.

Lifting one elegant eyebrow, he asked - not unkindly, “Do you know how to use it?”

Bemused, she looked at him in question.

“I’m Swordmaster for my Enclave,” he said, “among other things.”

She took a breath and smiled. “Ah.” She eyed him. “Will you teach