Elizabeth kneeled on the cliff with her back to the cottage, transfixed by vision of the crimson sun dropping slowly into the ocean.   The evening air had begun to take on a definite chill; William had warned her about the cool evenings when North Coast fog rolled in, but she had been unable to tear herself away from the stark, wild beauty of the cliffs even to run up to the house for warmer clothing      

Almost as if he had read her mind she felt the soft wool cape drop over her shoulders, and William’s warm arms came around to embrace her.  “We call it the fog-time here,” he explained, following her gaze out to the evening sea.

            “It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth replied.

            “I knew you’d like it here.  That’s why I brought you.”

She turned to look up into the strong even lines of his face.  She was a small woman, girlish in so many ways with tiny, cameo features that broke into a warm smile.  “Do you visit often?”
           
His face, which was rather hard in repose, became dazzling when he smiled.  “Not as often as I would like.  It gets lonely here by myself, but at the same time I’m rather particular about who I share it with.  There’s no rush if you are enjoying the fog, but be careful along the path after dark.”  With that he stood up and moved towards the house with his long, confident strides.  Elizabeth watched his strong back and broad shoulders until he was out of view, still dazed a bit by his presence.
           
Although considered something of a beauty with her tiny bones and bright red hair, she’d had few friends in her life, and far fewer lovers.  Even as child she’d always felt closer to nature than to people.  While the other girls in school had rolled their hair in curlers and bought new clothes, Elizabeth had escaped to the woods, hills and lakes surrounding the small Oregon town where she had been born.  Her best friends had been her dogs and her pony, and she was too feminine and shy even to find her place as a tomboy.  But when she and William had met at the park this spring, she had felt for the first time not like a stranger among people, but someone who was appreciated and even desired.

The desire had been so new, so sweet to her.  William was a considerate and gentle lover, well experienced (how could such an eligible bachelor be otherwise?), but so patient and eager to introduce her to the delights of love.  He had brought her here, to the cottage by the ocean where he had spent his boyhood summers, with hints and whispered promises to show her even more.             
With that lovely thought in mind, she quickly hurried along the garden path, hearing the waves on the shore, and the heady scent of roses exciting her senses further.

Before the door was even shut behind her, Elizabeth found herself pushed against the wall, with William’s hard, demanding body pressed against hers.  She was startled and moved as if to protest but his mouth moved to the delicate column of her throat and her own breath began to burn in her belly, making her forget everything but the feeling of his lips on her, his strong hands moving against her trembling body.

            She perceived dimly through heavily lidded eyes that he had opened all the windows in the cottage that faced the sea, and the only light in the room came from the roaring fire; the warm red glow from the flames was laced with the silvery filigree of fog.   Elizabeth heard the beat of William’s heart as he lifted her from her feet and pressed her to his chest, carrying her lightly over to the center of the room and the deep soft rug that stretched in front of the hearth like a sleeping animal.

“Darling,” he murmured as he lay her down, on it gently.  She felt his hands moving beneath the soft, heavy fabric of her skirt, caressing her thighs, her tiny ankles and the smooth, flowing lines of her calves.  She had never, not with any man, not even with William, felt her body react like this, so hot, so quick and strong.  The smell of her own musk joined the fragrance of the sea as her thighs flooded with moisture.  She threw her head back towards the fire, feeling its heat on her face, sensing its primal glow behind her closed eyes.  She arched her back for him, hearing words of want and hunger fall from her lips that she had never imagined calling to another person, words that would have made her blush even a few hours before, she was sure. 

But here, in his house, with the sound of the waves and the smell of the ocean and the cool fog caressing her bare skin like the finest silk, she found that part of herself she’d always kept hidden from other people.  The wild passion she’d had for the beauty of nature became hunger and heat and liquid for her lover.  She felt his hands against her breasts, the pressure of his palm replaced by questing fingers.  He bent to taste her painfully tight buds and she felt sounds rising in her throat that was beyond language.  He pulled her from her clothing, taking the shawl he had so lovingly placed on her shoulders and folding it beneath her hips.  Every part of her newly awakened body was craving him and she was begging, crying for him when he entered her.  The new angle of her hips towards his let him come into her deeper than ever before, but she hammered her tiny heels into his shoulders, wanting, needing even more. His breath in her mouth as he rocked against her was feeding this newly born self and she felt her body shaking from the spine, trembling like grass in a wild windstorm.  And as she clasped him hard and firm inside her, she felt him respond, his own voice echoing her screams with a deep low rumble like thunder.  

They back to earth together, and the calm after the storm cradled them both as they lay, still entwined, full and satiated with completeness and joy.

When she could move again she looped her arms around his neck and sighed contentedly.         He smiled at her then, kissing her gently between her eyes.  “I always knew.  You belong here.”

Elizabeth replied softly,   “I belong with you.”