"Open your eyes and look at me," Viserys commanded, his voice brooking no argument.
Trembling, she opened her eyes to find him kneeling over her, his black-and-red outer robe hanging open to reveal his lean, muscular chest. His silver hair was slightly tousled, and his purple eyes looked dark in the firelight as they fixed on her.
But there was no love in that gaze, no tenderness-only naked possessiveness and a searching scrutiny. When Viserys pressed his body against hers, the force and heat made her gasp.
He felt utterly unlike his usual self, his whole presence oppressive, yet it strangely gave her a twisted sense of security, as though she were falling into an abyss with nothing to cling to but a thorn-covered bramble.
There was little mutual cooperation throughout. Viserys controlled the entire rhythm as though riding a dragon, forceful and direct. She felt both ashamed and excited.
She bit her lip to stifle her moans, her fingers digging so hard into his back that they seemed about to sink into his muscles. She could see the glow of the holy fire dancing at the edge of her vision, yet in that moment, she lost herself in what they were doing.
For a few brief moments, she forgot who she was and where she was, leaving only wave after wave of sensation.
She had no idea how much time passed before everything ended with a stifled growl.
Then silence settled once more. Only the holy fire continued to burn, its crackling sounding especially grating now.
Only when the air touched the sweat on her skin did the sensation bring her back to herself.
But what did she see? Discarded clothes lay piled beneath the altar, the carpet beneath her was hopelessly rumpled, and a strange mixture of lust