throat [Ɵrəut], bosom [ˈbuzəm], mighty [ˈmaɪtɪ]
"The Yuetshi. I thought so, anyway. A cloud of smoke hid everything, but a naked, bloodstained devil caught me by the throat and drove his knife into my breast. Oh, it hurt! But it was a dream, because see, there is no scar." She idly inspected her smooth bosom, and then sank upon Conan's lap and passed her supple arms about his massive neck. "I cannot remember," she murmured, nestling her dark head against his mighty breast. "Everything is dim and misty. It does not matter. You are no dream. You are strong. Let us live while we can. Love me!"
He cradled the girl's glossy head in the bend of his heavy arm and kissed her full red lips with unfeigned relish (он уложил блестящую головку девушки на изгиб /локтя/ своей тяжелой руки и поцеловал ее полные красные губы с искренним удовольствием;
"You are strong (ты сильный)," she repeated (повторила она), her voice waning (слабеющим голосом;
unfeigned [ʌnˈfeɪnd], love [lʌv], sensuous [ˈsensjuəs]
He cradled the girl's glossy head in the bend of his heavy arm and kissed her full red lips with unfeigned relish.
"You are strong," she repeated, her voice waning. "Love me — love — " The sleepy murmur faded away; the dusky eyes closed, the long lashes drooping over the sensuous cheeks; the supple body relaxed in Conan's arms.