Stavanger Bay [m] the sparrows drag me down

In another life, this small hesitation might have been enough to stop him. In this life, the pause it gave him was shamefully brief. He understood what I didn't want them must mean, but she did want him. Of course she had. She had to.

Still. Perhaps she wasn't ready. This was all so very sudden. They were in the middle of nowhere.

"Slowly," he agreed, pushing such thoughts away. He drew her carefully against his chest, lapping tenderly at the fur of her throat, her shoulder. The feel of her beneath him was a balm against the wound her words had carved. Strange men, bastard children — the need to reclaim her from these things burned inside him. But, as he covered her with his body and hid her beneath him, he decided that this could slake his thirst for her.

For now.

"I can wait," he told her, just a little breathless. Then, "I'm sorry," and again, "I can wait."