and she tasted her nectar on his tongue.
Supped it from his mouth as he fed her, as he slid one hand between her thighs and repetitively speared her.
And the climax rolled on and on. .
When it finally started to fade, he swept her up in his arms and carried her around the bed. Kneeling on the mattress, he laid her upon the silk coverlet, then followed her down, stretching out alongside her, one hand splaying, openly possessive, on her belly as he leaned over her.
And proceeded to lead her to paradise again.
By a longer route this time, one where progress was steady but slow, where each stage extended and stretched. . until every last iota of pleasure had been wrung from it; only then did they move on.
Slower the way might be, but it was infinitely more — richer, more intense, every second, every heartbeat, more vested with feeling.
He caressed her, and she returned the pleasure. Their bodies met, naked and yearning, their bare limbs tangling, intertwining. Flushed, desire-dewed skin slid across skin, brushed, pressed, and nerves sparked. Sensation spread in slow, heated waves, rose and ebbed only to rise higher and slowly sweep them on.
Their hands roved each other’s bodies, pleasure their only intent — to give, to receive, to share.
To watch the other writhe, gasp, and then sigh.
To do the same, give the same, in reply.
Together they progressed through passion’s landscape. First he led, then she. Never before had they been together quite like this, sharing like this, no battle for supremacy but a true joining, the switching back and forth effortless, smooth as a thought, as an unvoiced desire.
Their gazes touched, locked, often held. Their heated breaths mingled, were shared when their lips met, or washed over each other’s skin.
Sensation expanded, heightened, became acute. Every touch carried heat, carried meaning.
Every caress meant more, weighted with feeling. With emotions unstated, yet so very real.
She took it all in; dazzled by the vibrancy, she drank in the wonder, savored the delight, saw in his face, behind his austere features, saw in the brilliant gold and greens of his eyes, a similar appreciation of their bounty.
This was them — the truth of them.
Breckenridge knew it, felt it to his soul, felt that truth echo there, resonate, sink deep, and belong. Owned.
He let himself do it — set true control to one side and let himself follow the path, and without reserve let himself respond to her as his inner male wished, the savage edge of his passion held at bay by the deeper and needier want that was this.
Being able to share
With her.
His woman. His lady. His one and only true lover.
He’d never followed this path before, yet even now sensed the danger. But if this was the route he needed to travel to bind her to him, he would take the road and accept the risk without hesitation.
They needed no words, which was just as well, because he had none. None that could do justice to
To the closeness, the true intimacy.
When he pressed her thighs apart, intending to settle between, she murmured and resisted — hand on his shoulder she urged him back. Moving to the slow tempo — the magic that had him in its grip — he obliged and rolled onto his back.
Allowing her to come over him. To straddle him and, naked in the moonlight, take him in. And ride him.
A slow dance; she rose upon him, then slid back down, using every muscle to caress.
To pleasure.
With the strange necklace about her throat, the pendant nestled between her bare breasts, she looked like a pagan goddess. Hands firming about her hips, he held, but didn’t guide. Let her set the pace.
Mesmerized by the sight.
Trapped by her heavy-lidded gaze as she moved upon him and. . cherished him.
He felt her intent, sensed it in her focus, her unswerving devotion to his pleasure.
The knowledge ripped through him, triggering an avalanche of emotions, feelings, impulses, a welter of powerful reactions that surged and tumbled through him.
Teeth gritted, he tried to hold them back, to give her her time.
As if sensing it, she shook her head wildly, golden hair flying about her shoulders. “Come with me. Now.”
At her husky demand, the dam within ruptured. His hands gripping tighter, holding her hips, he surged beneath her, thrusting up as she sank down.
In short order she was sobbing, her hands locked on his wrists, her head tipped back as she rode the heavy, pounding beat he set.
His own breathing ragged, he half sat, propped on one arm, and set his mouth to her breast.
Suckled hard, fiercely, and drove her on.
Thrust even deeper, and she screamed and came apart.
Need clawed within him, mindless and desperate, yet he wanted more — the final culmination.
The ultimate benediction that, for the first time in his life, was within his grasp.
He tipped her over, rolled with her, pressed her thighs wider, and with one powerful stroke, resheathed himself in her scalding heat.
And pressed her on.
And she was with him.
Fearless, she clung, and with him plunged back into the raging furnace of their need.
Into the passion and the greedy flames, into the roaring conflagration, straight into the vortex of that breathless, mindless, tearing need.
No gentle giving, but a raging, reckless striving, a desperate reaching for some perfect accord.
Together they reached for it.
And flew. Through passion’s fire, through desire’s flames, beyond the pinnacle of their joint need.
Their senses imploded, reality fractured, and ecstasy streamed in.
She screamed. He groaned.
Glory blossomed, swelled, and took them, filled them, wracked them, then wrought them anew.
And they let it. Merged beyond the physical, they held tight, bodies slick, skins afire, lungs laboring. Gazes locked, breaths mingling, they clung, and let the moment speak.
No simple homage but a true reverence, a beyond-the-self prostration before some greater god, something that went far beyond them.
A surrender like no other to the something that linked them, that joined them.
That had from the first tapped them each on the shoulder, pointed at the other, and said:
That power flared in them, through them, erupted, and engulfed them.
Held them and fused them.
They became it and it was them.
It shone in their hearts, overwhelmed their senses, illuminated their souls.
The moment stretched, waned, faded.
Oblivion beckoned, and they closed their eyes, felt that precious moment pass. . let it go.
Let themselves fall into soothing darkness, to where satiation buoyed them on a golden sea, and the familiar world was a heartbeat away.
The night closed around them and wrapped them in her arms.
Exhausted, they slept.
The chill of deepening night washing over him eventually drew Breckenridge back to the world. He resurfaced reluctantly. Easing from Heather, from the warm clasp of her body, the haven of her arms, he
