Holy smokes, she'd gotten more than she'd bargained for, in a good way. Aramus had come to her, torn by his desire, but also unable to resist. It made her melt inside to see the inner battle he fought, for once his expression not a guarded mask as desire fought with wariness. . .and wistfulness.
He wanted what she offered, but didn't trust it. In the end, he couldn't help himself. They made love. Wild, unbelievable love, and even when he came, shouting her name, his voice raw, he didn't forget about her. Instead of collapsing atop her-which would have probably crushed her to death-he remembered her more fragile human nature and rolled, keeping them connected, until he lay on his back with her splayed atop him.
Catching her breath, with her cheek against his skin, she noted something strange and couldn't help but ask, despite the intimate moment, "Why can't I hear your heart beat?"
"Because I don't have one."