"Allll yours," she sighs blissfully.

He hugs her. "I love you."

"So does the word 'mine' count as declaring us married, or...?"

"If I still had an empire there would be paperwork. It at least counts in spirit. I can say the formal phrase in Telindi if you like - elte i'farasti n'marra timei - and it actually was a legal requirement that we have sex, which I will happily do again if it makes you feel properly married..."

"That is one of several reasons why we should have sex again."

"Mmmm."

Kiss.

"You know what I want," he says thoughtfully, "I want to turn back into an enormous monster while I'm fucking you, I think that would be lovely."

"Well, that sounds like it would be an absolutely terrible idea if you hadn't made me sufficiently conveniently immortal. Let's do it."

He snickers.

And sits up and pulls her into his lap and kisses her some more.

Mmm, kiss. She's really getting the hang of this.

It's lovely. She's lovely.

"My beautiful Annisetimara."

"Mmmhmmm."

"Now, I believe I said something about fucking you..."

He settles his hands on her hips and moves her where he wants her.

She is so cooperative.

"Mine," he breathes, pulling her down, and as soon as he's in all the way he tangles his hands in her hair and kisses her.

She kisses him back and runs her fingers through his hair and rocks her hips.

"I love you." Kiss. "So much." Kiss. "My lovely Annisetimara."

"Love you," she moans.

"Tell me you're mine," he says, "tell me you want it, my beautiful girl, I love the way you beg..."

"I'm yours--all yours--love you--please, please fuck me--it's so good, I want it so much, please, take me..."

So he fucks her, slowly, and then - changes - muscle swelling under his skin, scales flowing into place, bones shifting as they expand, until he's the monster she met again, with his huge hands squeezing bruises into her thighs.

"Do you like that?" he murmurs. "Sitting on my cock and feeling it grow to twice its size inside you? Is this what you wanted?"

She moans.

"Oh," she gasps, "yes, it's good, oh."

He can't hurt her more than she wants to be hurt - but he's careful anyway, he's gentle anyway, he wants to be, he wants to prove to himself that he can.

"Mine," he says. "All mine. I love you so much."

She moans, moving with him, resting her head against his solar plexus, trying and failing to clench around the enormous girth inside her. "So good, so good, so yours, so love you so much..."

"My Annisetimara, my lovely, my beautiful..."

She's right, it is a problem that he can't kiss her like this. But it's worth it, for that look on her face, for the way she feels around him, for the sounds she makes.

"Nn--oh--feels like--like it should hurt--but doesn't, only the good parts--oh, love, amazing..."