The Dance of Passion(1.3)

*In the hug of the evening, two hearts crashed in an ensemble of want, their affection a fire that ignited with a power unmatched.*

Narrator: In the private limits of Sovereign Isabella's chambers, enthusiasm blasted far and wide as she and Sir Marcus gave up to the inebriating charm of prohibited love. Their bodies weaved in a dance ancient, every development a demonstration of the profundities of their yearning.

Sovereign Isabella: ( her voice a murmur of delight as bittersweet tears euphoria streak down her cheeks) Marcus, my adoration, I have never felt such ecstasy.

Narrator: As the sovereign's tears blended with the intensity of their enthusiasm, Sir Marcus held her nearby, his heart spilling over with an adoration that had no limits.

Sir Marcus: ( his voice imposing with want) My sovereign, your satisfaction is the only thing that is important to me. I won't stop until each tear is supplanted happily of euphoria.

Narrator: With each stroke and kiss, their bond extended, their spirits converging in an association as hallowed as any promise. However, in the midst of the pains of their enthusiasm, a snapshot of torment penetrated the cover of bliss.

Sovereign Isabella: ( panting as she feels a flood of torment) Marcus, I... Please accept my apologies.

Narrator: With a delicacy brought into the world of adoration and understanding, Sir Marcus stopped, his anxiety obvious in the wrinkle of his forehead.

Sir Marcus: ( brushing a lock of hair from the sovereign's face) Isabella, what inconveniences you, my affection?

Narrator: Accordingly, the sovereign inclined forward, her lips following a way along Marcus' neck prior to diving into his tissue with a combination of want and distress.

Sir Marcus: ( gritting his teeth against the aggravation) Isabella, what... what's going on with you?

Narrator: However the sensation caused him torment, Sir Marcus took no action to stop the sovereign, his affection for her offsetting any inconvenience he might have felt.

Sovereign Isabella: ( pulling back with a look of assurance) I mark you as mine, Marcus. An image of our prohibited love, to be conveyed with you generally.

Narrator: Thus, with an affection chomp as their seal, Sovereign Isabella and Sir Marcus gave up again to the delight of their cravings, their bodies moving as a beautiful, unified whole as they took off to levels of euphoria beforehand obscure.

As the night attracted to a nearby and the principal light of day break crawled into the great beyond, Sir Marcus wound up defeat with an inquiry that waited on the edge of his lips.

Sir Marcus: ( murmuring delicately) Isabella, my affection, where will I finish?

Narrator: Accordingly, Sovereign Isabella met his look happily as brilliant as the morning sun, her response a demonstration of the profundity of their association.

Sovereign Isabella: ( with a devilish glimmer in her eye) Inside, my dear Marcus. Continuously inside.

Thus, as the main beams of daylight washed their weaved structures in a brilliant sparkle, Sovereign Isabella and Sir Marcus gave up again to the sweet hug of energy, their affection a fire that consumed more splendid than the most splendid star overhead.