At first her gaze was unfocused with pleasure. He relished Moira’s ability to do everything with intense passion, but it was here as they made love that she truly came alive.
He leaned up, the friction between them making them both gasp, but he had to kiss those lips. He had to taste her. He locked her in the kiss until she shuddered, vibrating deep inside where he felt it with the tip of his penis. Primal need had him thrusting, then he fell back to the floor and said, “I’m all yours.”
Moira was momentarily overpowered when her last barriers collapsed, washed away in a flood of unconditional trust and love flowing from Rafe’s aura. She hadn’t realized until now that she’d been holding back her senses, but the last remnants of fear disappeared with her walls. In this one perfect moment she blended with Rafe as if she were sharing his soul, and he sharing hers. Their thoughts, their feelings, their bodies were one, a perfect union.
“Don’t cry,” Rafe said.
“I’m not.” She wiped her face, surprised there were tears on her cheeks. “I love you so much.”
Moira lowered her body onto Rafe’s, kissed his chest softly as they moved together in a slow, steady rhythm. She let him roll her over, their limbs entwined, their separate bodies becoming one. In unison they encouraged the other, urging each other at the same pace, spiraling higher the faster their bodies moved. Hands linked, they stared in each other’s blue eyes; Moira’s bright, Rafe’s dark, saw their love as they felt it.
Moira’s lips involuntarily parted as Rafe brought her to the edge. She teetered there, and Rafe put his mouth on hers, kissing her as she gasped. He held himself deep inside her, his entire body rigid, then with a deep cry that bordered on a growl, he began to shake as he could no longer hold back his ecstasy.
Moira dove right off the edge with Rafe, holding him as a flash of hot, white light preceded an incredible orgasm, fueled by lust and love, trust and passion. Nothing existed except them, and they became one, holding still, the diminishing shudders that surged through their bodies touching the most tender spots inside and out.
Rafe pulled the blankets that had fallen on the floor around both of them. He held Moira close, their bodies still hot and slick with sweat. He didn’t want to let her go, and kissed her again, lightly, tenderly.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Moira said wistfully.
“We have now.”
“Yes, we have now.” She sighed and shivered.
Rafe reluctantly rose to his feet, picking Moira up with him. He laid her on the bed, covered her with the blankets and spooned his body around hers. She hugged his arm to her chest and breathed out a long, steady moan.
“Sleep, sweetness,” Rafe said. “I will be here when you wake up.”
She melted into his arms with a contented sigh. They lay wrapped together, unmoving, Rafe’s hand over Moira’s heart. He focused on her steady pulse as it slowed to a soft, even beat; he listened to her breathing as it evened out, rhythmic, calming.
Rafe watched Moira’s face, surprisingly peaceful and vulnerable in sleep. She trusted him, otherwise she wouldn’t be resting so soundly. His chest tightened painfully at what they would be facing over the next weeks, months, even years. But maybe this love was God’s way of giving them something so good, so pure, so perfect that they could survive the future.
“Yes, Moira,” he murmured, “it’s always been love.”
Rafe drifted into a light, troubled sleep.
Julie’s voice startled him and his eyes flashed open. She wasn’t here. She was dead, but her words haunted him. He hadn’t told Moira what Julie had said. But until he had more answers, he would keep the information to himself.
He tightened his grip around Moira, and she tensed, then relaxed again, as if sensing his uneasiness. He had more questions than answers, and he feared he might be more a danger to Moira than her unknown future. But he would not hurt her. He would die first.
Perhaps Julie was wrong. Perhaps it was the memories that made her think she wasn’t alone. Or the spirits that had flooded through him on their way to the astral plane. Moira would sense if something was supernaturally wrong with him. Her perceptions were extraordinary. All he had was memories, and there had to be a logical explanation. He would find it. He had to, for both him and Moira, and for their future.
He thought back to Rod Fielding’s observation about the amygdala, the primitive core of the brain. The part that housed basic emotions. The foundation on which the Seven Deadly Sins fed. The memory center of the brain … primitive memories. Nothing was more primitive than fear.
Rafe prayed for answers that did not come, except for a deep-primitive-need to protect Moira at all costs. Moira’s life was Rafe’s responsibility. He knew it with as strong a certainty as he knew that he loved her. It was his sacred duty. Even if he had to die. Even if he had to kill.
Moira whimpered once in her sleep and Rafe whispered in her ear, “I’m here, sweetness. Don’t be afraid, I’m right here with you.”
Dawn broke over the Los Padres Mountains before Rafe slept again.
