Let us say, for the sake of brevity, you have just read a very well written, emotionally involved tale wherein a prince or knight has overcome a dragon or other seemingly impossible task and has now arrived to claim his reward: a night with the king's (young, virgin) daughter.
The heavy wooden door slammed behind him. She couldn't make out more than an outline, though her handmaids had sworn he was one of the most attractive suitors to date.
"Princess!" He declared loudly into the chamber. "Step forth so I may look up on you. I have heard far and wide of your beauty."
"Have you, kind sir, ever heard of a princess who was not beautiful?" she retorted
"Ah, sassy I see." He remarked, "I shall make quick work of your quick wit. Please, step forth."
No response from the darkness. He could make out the shape of a large bed, laden with fancy pillows and animal skins. A small window to the right of the bed was also visible, the last hints of daylight fading in the sky. But he could not see the princess, he knew she was there, her father, the king, had promised she would be and the king's word is law.
"Princess," he tried again, "let's cut to the chase. I went out on a ridiculous quest, defeated an undefeatable foe, came back against all odds and now I want my reward and that reward is your sweet, sweet..."
She cut him off, "my sweet, sweet what, sir? You've not even looked upon my face, how would thou knowest if I am sweet, sweet anything?"
"Please, princess, step into the light of my candle so that I may decide for myself." Still no response. "Look, this will happen. You can step into the light, let me whisper some sweet nothings in your ear and then give yourself to me, or I can chase you around in the darkness and take you. Either way, you are mine."
She chuckled.
"Just remember, when I'm piercing your maidenhead with my sword, you chose this." He stepped towards the bed, hoping his eyes would find any movement, he'd worked too hard and too long to give up on the very hearth of actualization.
There it was, a slight glimmer of something, just below the window. He moved quickly towards it. He thrust his hand into the darkness. His hand came up against flesh. Soft and silken. He pulled her wrist upwards and held the candle to her face.
The light glimmered in her gentle, gray eyes; her mouth, sweet pink lips, pulled into a defiant grin. Long, blond hair fell over her shoulders like a waterfall. A slight nose and a blush in her cheeks. He could feel himself growing aroused as she slowly licked her lips.