The thin veil of clouds covering the moon gave it the appearance of being suspended by an invisible thread. He stared at the amber disc for a long time, almost as if waiting for something to come from the encounter. There was magick in the moon this night. It touched part of him. It touched him in that place that made him hard. Lust rose up in him natural and pure, filling him with a powerful urge. The longer he held the gaze with the moon, the harder he became. He slowly lifted thickly muscled arms. Broad
hands reached toward the sky and powerful fingers curled into tightly balled fists. He threw his head back, shook the hair from his face, and unleashed a howl into the humid night air that came from the depths of his soul. The magick was powerful indeed.
Nostrils flared as his mind played cruel tricks on him, teasing him with a wisp of her scent on the night breeze. Instinctively, he whirled and tensed. Sculpted thighs flexed, poised to run. There was another urge forcing him into an even stride in the direction he imagined her to be waiting. The wind lifted his hair from his shoulders as he ran across a smooth granite face. The tree line of blue spruce loomed ahead of him with an iridescent glow, as the clouds released the moon into unfettered blackness of the night sky. Stopping at the edge of the forest, he turned and looked once more at the bright amber beacon. Once more magick reached out and touched him in that place. It was her who touched this time igniting the violence of his lust. It was her coming to him through the magick of the moon….