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I don’t know, little witch, but I do think we found the place you liked my leg touching.

Whatever he’s doing with his tongue and his mouth, it far exceeds the earlier brush of his legs. Why have I never known my body could feel like this?

His mouth moves a little lower, and the next stroke of his lips causes my back to arch and my grip on his hair to tighten.

Do you like that? he asks, peering up from between my legs.

I nod breathlessly at the ceiling. Yes.

And this? He dips his head and traces some contour of my sex with his mouth.

I suck in air. Yes. How do I admit it’s all making my toes curl?

But then his mouth moves back up to that small section of skin, and he laves it with his tongue.

A moan slips out. I feel my face flush, but I’m too distracted by this strange pleasure he’s coaxing out of me.

He smiles against my skin. And that feels best of all?

“ Yes ,” I breathe.

Memnon begins sucking it in earnest, and it’s overwhelming and wonderful all at once. I don’t know why my hips keep rocking, and I cannot decide whether it’s too much or not enough, but when I accidentally grind my pelvis against Memnon’s mouth, the man groans.

Oh, I like that, little witch , he says. Do it again.

Memnon tightens his hold on me, like he’s afraid I might try to escape his clutches.

He sucks hard on that section of skin, and now I understand his bracing grip because I do try to get away.

It’s futile, but I do. However, there’s nowhere to go.

No escaping this intense sensation. And once I stop fighting it, gods forgive me, I do begin to grind against him again. And again, and again.

Memnon is making approving noises that should embarrass me, but I’m so far beyond embarrassed that all of it only fuels this restless, wonderful sensation gathering beneath his mouth.

I’m so focused on it that I don’t realize he’s removed one of his hands from my thigh. Not until he presses a finger inside me.

The action shatters something within me, and I cry out as suddenly, pleasure rushes through my body like a wave overtaking the earth.

Memnon groans as I shamelessly rock against him, his grip tightening on my thigh. Fuck , he curses down our bond, I can feel you.

He felt… that ?

Yes , he says raggedly.

I force myself to release his hair. My breath is coming in shallow, heaving pants. “What… was that?” I ask dazedly.

Memnon looks smug as he lifts himself up from between my thighs. “That, beloved wife, was an orgasm.”

I raise my eyebrows. I’ve heard of orgasms, though I never knew women could have them.

Memnon presses a kiss to my inner thigh, then moves up my body. I can feel the heavy drag of his penis against my leg. My hips shift at the feel of it, and my legs are still spread.

Do you want more , he asks, or would you like to stop here?

More? I echo. I’m sated from whatever he did with his mouth, but the thought of there being more to explore heats my blood.

He searches my face, the firelight dancing in his eyes and casting his scar into stark relief. You didn’t think that was it, did you?

“Maybe?” I say aloud, then bite my lip.

He touches my lower lip with his thumb, his brows furrowing. Can I confess something to you? he says.

I nod, fighting the urge to cover myself now that my body is cooling.

His fingers trail down from my lip to my neck, then fall away. I know very little about intimacy beyond what I’ve heard , he says.

This is the Memnon I am familiar with. Vulnerable, his heart laid bare.

But I want to know you intimately , he continues. More than anything.

I reach for him then, pulling him close, my lips finding his. He kisses me again, passion tempered by a sweetness I feel through our bond.

I want that too , I say.

He breaks off the kiss to see my expression. “Do you want it right now?” he asks, searching my gaze. “Because we don’t have to do this tonight?—”

“Yes, I want this with you right now.” Whatever this even is.

Inexperienced or not, Memnon must have a better idea than I do because he pushes himself to his knees and spreads my legs once more, staring again at my core.

It’s slightly less mortifying now that he’s already placed his mouth on the area. I even find it a little…alluring.

Grabbing his concerningly large phallus, he rests the tip of it against that part of me he slipped his finger into earlier. Only, his penis is much larger than his finger.

I tense, certain that whatever orifice exists between my legs, it’s not going to fit him. But to my utter shock, he does begin to sink into me. I whimper at the sharp bite of pain, and Memnon pulls out.

Are you okay? he asks, concern etched on his features.

I nod. Is it supposed to hurt? I ask.

I think it can for women , he says, but…I’m not certain.

It really hits me then that powerful, ferocious Memnon doesn’t have the answer because he has never been with a woman. I want to pick apart why that is?—

You know why , he interrupts, his eyes heavy on me. There has only ever been you.

Emotion lodges in my throat.

I still want to do this , I say.

Memnon looks a little torn. Finally, he takes a deep breath and presses a hand to my abdomen. Beneath his touch, I feel his magic sink into me.

What are you doing? I ask.

I don’t want this to hurt you.

Once his magic takes root, he tries again, lining up his phallus with my opening. Then, for the second time, he presses into me.

There’s no more pain, but there’s a pressure and fullness that comes with the intrusion. Memnon shifts, leaning forward and bracing himself over me as he continues to sink into me, deeper than before. Then deeper still.

I grip his back, my fingers digging into those rolling muscles as my body gives way for him, even when I’m sure there’s no more room. Whatever that place is inside me, it stretches and accommodates until I feel Memnon’s pelvis meet mine.

Above me, my new husband lets out a shaky breath, and our eyes meet.

“I’m…inside you,” he says wondrously.

I let out a light, shaky laugh. He’s always been inside me, his thoughts a companion to my own. But this is the first time his body has moved in mine.

I push back the lock of hair that wants to hang over his eye. “I can feel you there, in me. It’s…” Surreal. Incredible. “Strange and wonderful.”

Memnon’s eyes shine.

Deep where we are joined, a throb starts up. There’s some elusive movement I need…

Memnon must feel the same pull because he withdraws his hips, then sinks back into me.

I gasp at the wave of pleasure that comes with the action.

He curses, leaning his forehead against me.

I’m not going to last long , he admits.

Last long? I don’t know what that means.

He gives me a pained laugh.

It means I need to get you to come before I do.

I run my hands over his arms. Come?

Orgasm , he explains.

Oh. I still don’t think I have a great grasp of this urgency he’s talking about, but if it involves another orgasm, I can be urgent.

I want you to orgasm while I’m inside you , he elaborates.

My eyebrows hike up. That sounds excitingly perverse too.

Memnon’s magic slithers out from beneath his hands and down my body, toward the point where we are joined.

I don’t pay it much attention until I feel phantom fingertips stroking that place Memnon kissed earlier, the one that seemed to be the center of all pleasure.

I make a small noise as his magic increases its movements.

From above me, Memnon smiles. Does that feel good?

I can only nod, my breath hitching.

Slowly, Memnon begins to move his hips again.

There are no words that can convey the wonder and euphoria of it all.

It was erotic enough that the man who’s been inside my mind is now inside my body, but now there’s the feel of this act.

The pressure and thickness of him sliding in and out of me, combined with the persistent stroke of his power between my legs.

It’s filling me up and winding me tighter and tighter and tighter?—

All at once, I break.

I cry out, my hands pressing Memnon as close as possible as another orgasm crashes through me.

Memnon groans. I feel you around my cock and in my head…

His thrusts drive deeper and faster. I feel more pressure, though I’m not sure the sensation is my own, and then?—

“Roxilana.” He says my name desperately as, across our bond, I feel him come.

I gasp at the echo of it and how it reignites the last remnants of my own orgasm.

I hold on to him as his motions continue on and on, no longer controlled. Eventually, his thrusts gentle.

He stares down at me, then laughs disbelievingly.

That was…earth-shattering. I’m not sure which one of us thinks it; it’s as though for a moment, our minds themselves act in unison.

I reach up and touch Memnon’s face near his scar and smile, shifting a little beneath him. I’m naked and sweaty and he’s still inside me, even if the pressure is gone.

This is a perplexingly marvelous and very vulnerable moment.

“Hi, husband,” I say softly, shyly.

His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Hello, wife.” Memnon leans in and kisses me, even as he pulls out of my body. Between my legs, I feel a rush of wetness.

Urine? Blood?

Neither, little witch. Memnon reaches down between us and touches me right where we were joined a moment ago.

A moment later, he holds his fingers before me, letting their glistening tips catch the light.

They’re not bloody, as I first feared, though there are slight streaks of red in the liquid.

But for the most part, it’s a whitish semiopaque color.

Something our bodies must make, just for this.

I’m oddly aroused by the sight of that liquid and the sensation of it between my legs.

“When can we do that again?” I whisper.

Memnon gives a laugh that sounds like he’s far too pleased for his own good. “Whenever you’d like, my queen, just so long as I get to hold you for a moment first,” he says. “That’s all I’ve wanted to do for years.”

His words harken back to the nights we spent reaching for one another across the world, aching to embrace when we were sad or scared or hurt.

And now we can.

I know my expression softens; my entire body seems to respond to those words. Memnon, my old friend and confidant, who cared for me when no one else did and whom I’ve loved for a very, very long time.

He draws me into his arms, and for the first time since the Romans burned my village, I feel safe. Home .

I lay my head on his arm, and Memnon and I stare at each other, small smiles dancing on our faces. I can see the glint of flame in his eyes.

We did it. Again, I don’t know who thinks the thought, and I have to assume it belongs to both of us.

We did it.

The two of us bask in this moment.

“I cannot tell you how many moons I yearned for this,” Memnon confesses in the dim light.

I place a hand on his cheek, marveling at the feel of his skin. I can’t seem to stop myself from touching him.

“I remember those nights,” I whisper. “I’d wish to the stars, the gods, the darkness itself that you could be with me like this.” My thumb strokes over his skin. “I am glad those nights are over.”

I roll on top of him then and begin kissing each of his scars—to make them feel better, of course. And then I show Memnon just how glad I am all over again.