Intro: for those that never touched LKH Mary Gentry series:

This is enchanted faery land. Sithen is the Mound in which the faery land exists. It is home for it, containing countless chambers, gardens, it is world in its self, but it is living “being”. It changes at its own will.

Mistral is God of winds and storm. He is 6”4’, muscled, with slightly off white coloured skin, grey knee long hair and eyes. He becomes the captain of Queens guard after Doyle was discharged.

Doyle was Queens Darkness. He is shape shifter. he can change into a black dog, black stallion and some kind of black bird of pray. He is 6’2’, compact, black skin and blue-black shiny ankle length hair.

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It is unusual, quiet, eerie dark, but I don’t know if it is calm before the storm or the one just after the battle. Sithen decided it is time for rest so it made its chambers dark, bathing the gardens in cold blue moonlight.

It was only hours since we worked magic, danced to rhythm of our desires, but I lay awake, motionless in the big, black silk covered bed, and listen to his breathing. He sleeps like a King, spread eagle in peaceful, deep, dreamless rest.

Sliding carefully to the floor, I make my way to the chair, folding legs underneath me, pulling the fur close to my body, not for warmth but for comfort, I’m watching him sleep. I love to watch him sleep; still not believing it is him, Mistral, Lord of Storm and Winds. My Lord! I watch moonlight playing shadows on taut muscles, long grey hair spilled like liquid silver around him.

The air is filled with heavy scent of sage. Closing my eyes, inhaling deeply, remembering evening, his need, our passion. Deep in my body starts ripple, memory alive. Heat rising, urge to feel him, to taste him, to convince myself: he is mine!

Quietly, I move like a shadow, to the head of the bed. Leather straps lay discarded on the floor, just what I need! With feather touch, nothing more than butterfly kiss, I tie the leather to his wrist and to the bedpost. First one, than the other hand. I smile and move to his feet, which I secure to the bottom bedposts. This time I will have him on my terms!

I lie between his legs and inhale his warm, male aroma. With closed eyes I touch my cheek to his leg, lightly, just feeling soft caress of his heat. Lying on my stomach with my arms imprisoned under my breast, I cannot resist; my tongue darts and licks, my taste buds feasting on his sweet skin.

He moves, still asleep, and pulls on his bonds. The sleep clears his led coloured eyes quick and he attempts to get up, reach for his sword. I lay motionless between his legs ready to move fast if my bonds are not strong enough to hold him. But I did good job and slowly he quiets down to assess