Andromache comforts Hector

Lovingly she lifts away
his battle crusted linen,
palming the furred chest as she
feels him rise against her.
Her lips graze the stripes and scars
of past carnage, now memories
that only he recalls.

In the silence her breath is a sigh,
his a groan as he lies back,
weary of the fight,
eager for love.

She takes him inside her
kneeling astride his muscled thighs,
his knotted strength is heat on her.
Leaning in,
she sweeps her hair aside,
 her breasts yearn towards his.
Course hands cover her hips
as he deepens  their bond.  
Outside the walls
Achilles waits but, for now,
he is hers.