Her approval could only set him further aflame. In a moment, his clothing was torn off; that little whimper was all the encouragement he needed. Her bra was eased off expertly, nimble fingers finding the hooks and sliding the straps down her skin. Richard's other hand continued its attentions, exploring the velvet folds, teasing into her and then stroking back. He wanted to make her undone. For him, only for him. To see her frozen exterior melt and know he was the only cause.

Naked above her, their skin both shining in the firelight like twin gods, Richard pulled back to look down at his prize. His treasure. His precious Camilla.

"You are perfect," he breathed. In that ecstatic knowing that all she was had been laid out for him, he eased off the last bit of fabric separating them and, gently, moved inside of her.

They were one, now; the thought itself was almost as euphoric as the feeling of Camilla around him. It was him that plunged into her, that rocked back, that felt her tighten and shudder. Him. No others, never again. She was his, and with every movement he confirmed it. Mine had been the rallying cry and mine continued to echo with every pant and moan.