The heat came in waves, traced by smooth fingernails against her flesh. He meandered over her body, caressing her breasts, kissing the hollow of her neck.
Perhaps it was the liquor, liquid fire in her belly, that caused her to undress, quite willing, before him. Without caution, knowing full well what would transpire as she unlaced her corsets.
Fireflies swirled, cold blue shimmer, penumbras against the night. She lay limp, damp with sweat and his musk. She did not mind should this never happen again; she was sure the new little life inside her was not misplaced and would flourish.
feature image: Gustave Klimt: The Kiss