And the Goddess fit in him. That was the unbearable, ruinous part of her. Her tall, slender, willowy frame folded into his godly one as though the two of them had been measured against each other in some workshop before either had drawn a first breath:
The crown of her dark head tucked just beneath the line of his jaw, the cold point of the sapphire pressed a small sweet chill into him through his shirt as the gossamer of her gown crushed soft and warm and whispering between their bodies.
He felt the gentle perfect weight of her breasts press against his chest through the thin black tulle, the way the sheer fabric did nothing to hide the warmth and softness of her, the subtle shift of her nipples tightening against the delicate material as she melted into him.
