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He trembled now and his balls ached. Eventually, he was sure he would calm down, but with her honeysuckle mixed with the rich heady smell of sex, he was rigid as hell.
He kept breathing, but that smell was intoxicating. Honeysuckle whirled in his brain and for some reason his chest started to hurt. He wanted to touch her, to put his hand in her hair, on her shoulder, over her arm. He needed the connection.
She was a treasure, his treasure, made for him, meant for him.
The trembling worsened and the bed shook. He tried to calm down but couldn’t.
Shit. He thought about leaving the bed, but he couldn’t make his body move. He was where he wanted to be, needed to be.
* * *
Havily was in that strange ethereal space between waking and dreaming. She didn’t understand why the bed was jiggling—or was that a dream? Dreams could be really strange.
Yet something nagged at her, really bugged her, made her uncomfortable. She had left something important undone, but what? What?
She rose into her consciousness another step. She’d been working with Endelle to improve her darkening skills. Endelle had been horrible but Marcus had been there.
Oh … Marcus. Her body relaxed and she dropped down a layer of consciousness. He had been with her and so kind … the nagging sensation returned and the jiggling on the bed got worse.
“I’m sorry.” The voice came from so far away, that wonderful deep, masculine voice. Marcus had made love to her. “Go to sleep,” the same magical voice repeated.
She wanted to sleep, but something was troubling her. But what?
Her eyes popped open. She stared at the lace curtains of the window, the outdoor lights of the garden. Where was Marcus? Why was the bed shaking?
She gasped and awoke completely. She turned over and stared at him.
“You’re awake?” He looked panicked.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re shaking.”
“Yeah.”
“I must have fallen right asleep after you…” She couldn’t say the words, licked me, tongued me, brought me to a shattering orgasm. She smoothed her hand down his arm. He was what was wrong with the bed.
She pushed back the sheet, saw that he was stiff, erect, and probably in pain, then her body relaxed. Of course. This was the important thing left undone. She dropped her hand low and in a long sweep she stroked him.
A groan gushed out of him.
“Oh, you idiot man. Come. Take me. Now. I’m still wet as hell.” She rolled onto her back and pulled him over her.
She lifted her knees and he plunged into her, forcing her entire body up toward the headboard. It was about the best sensation in the world and she cried out. The pleasure of his presence in her body was incredibly intense, probably because she’d already orgasmed. He was too far gone to be gentle and that was so awesome. His movements were just right, very quick, and he was hard as granite. Her body responded by shedding a new wave of fluids.
He grunted, groaned, and moved over her like a beast.
She loved it.
Her body adored it.
“Honeysuckle,” he cried out.
One last long intake of breath right behind his ear so that fennel rushed into her brain and her body splintered into a thousand particles of pleasure. She could hear herself screaming at a distance but her mind was all for the exquisite lightning streaks of pleasure that gripped the core of her body.
Marcus groaned as he released his seed, his body writhing as his ejaculation continued on and on, his groans harsher, his throat releasing a series of anguished cries until finally he was spent.
When he collapsed on her, she was only partially prepared. Her breath got squished from her lungs but she didn’t care.
He immediately apologized and rose up, but she held on to him, her arms crowding his neck and holding him fast. He fell back on top of her. So … gooood.
“I’ve never felt like this,” he murmured into her hair.
“I know.” She breathed hard. Her chest filled up with such need and longing, painful yearning, the real hallmark of ascended life. “And you were being such a gentleman.” She kissed him on the lips.
“I knew you needed to sleep.”
She released her stranglehold on his neck and fell back against the pillow. “You know, you could have gone into the bathroom, and you know—” She didn’t like to talk about self-pleasure but she wanted him to know that she understood. “I wouldn’t have minded. I understand that men have needs.” She felt the need to share, “Women, too.”
His expression surprised her, the smile on his lips, the warmth in his eyes. Then he kissed her hard on the mouth. He looked at her again, his light brown eyes glittering in the dim light. “Normally I would have,” he whispered. “You needed to sleep, but I … couldn’t. I … Havily … you were what I needed, to be inside you. I can’t explain it.”
She felt as though he had shoved his hand up her rib cage, grabbed her heart, and squeezed. She gasped at the sensation. “Marcus, what’s happening to us? I mean, I never wanted this again, not just with you, but with any man. I didn’t want to love again. I can’t love again.”
He kissed her again and oh, damn, his eyes were wet. “I know,” he murmured. “I’ve been inside your head, remember? I get it. We’re the same in that way.”
He was still connected to her, still inside her. Tears slipped from her eyes as well. “What are we going to do? This thing, this horrible breh-hedden, has me tied up in a knot. I can’t be with you but I can’t keep away from you and the longer I’m with you and the more times you give me such pleasure, the more I want you, crave you. Marcus, this has to stop.”
The only thing that stopped were her words because he kissed her again and pushed at her with his tongue until he was inside her mouth and plunging his tongue into her tender recesses.
She kissed him back, all her earlier fatigue replaced with a combination of her frustration and despair that for some absurd, ridiculous, and completely useless reason communicated all her need to the sensual nerves of her body.
Before she even understood, before she could react in a rational negating sense, Marcus once more moved his c**k within her body and her body once more wept for him, surrounded him, loved him. Once more he was hard as a rock. Tears streamed down her face this time as he again took her to the pinnacle but the whole time he kept his mouth connected to hers.
When she came, when he was arching over her and filling her once more, making a complete mess of the sheets, she cried out, part frustration, part ecstasy.
