Port Damali. [She corrects herself, committing the name to memory.] The whole host of Mount Olympus could bear witness, and I would make love to you just the same.

[She wriggles her hips, moving her legs to help him peel the dress off - frankly he could rip it off of her for all she cared in the moment. Her fingers drop to the laces of his pants, pausing there to trace fingers over his stomach, the curve of his hip bones. It's a difficult balance, wanting to take her time with him, and feeling the urgency deep in her limbs that she wants him inside of her. As keenly as every time that they've been together, she wagers that they could lay together hundreds of times and she would still yearn for his touch. To explore him like it's the first time all over again.]

But I will not complain having privacy here. [She kisses his lips right where they curve over one of his tusks that peek out. The laces of his pants go quickly now, and she slips a hand in the slack of his trousers now, shimmying the fabric down just enough to free him.] I think you would have your share of admirers too, and I want you all to myself right now.