"Wonder... ful."
"Does it hurt?"
"Nay. It feels... like... nothing else on earth," she breathed.
"Aye." He increased the pace, and she grasped his hips. He relished the bite of her nails, digging into his flexing muscles. She arched her back more, her head tossing side to side.
He knew the intensity of what she felt, for he experienced the same. A yearning that touched on insanity. Lunacy and passion blended. And though he craved release, he must wait. He would not let go until she did.
Her body clutched at his. He covered her scream with his mouth as a great force of sensuality shook her.
He could hold back no longer.
Infinite pleasure radiated through him like the brightest, hottest sunlight. It transported him to the outermost limits of anything he had experienced thus far in life.
Burying his face against her neck, he held onto enough sanity to withdraw from her body at the last moment.
He would protect her at all costs, shunning his own deepest cravings. His breathing hard, he lifted his head and met her gaze.
Tears trailed from her eyes, startling him.
"Did I hurt you?"
"Nay. 'Tis not that at all. I was made for you, Torr. I have always... always loved you."
Saints! When she said those words to him, something he did not understand grabbed hold of him and punched him in the gut.
The many reasons he should've never touched her spun about in his head, but they were like annoying midges he swatted away. Those had been the best moments of his life, and he would not regret any of it.
***
CAT FELT HER BODY SLOWLYdrift back to earth after the storm of overwhelming pleasure she had experienced moments ago. 'Twas a shock to her system that brought her joy untold.
She watched the play of light and dark emotions crossing Torr's face. When he remained silent, she realized he still didn't love her. Why? Was she too flawed? Not good enough?
Looking troubled, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her toward the bathtub.
Though he must have experienced carnal pleasure, he did not appear happy.
Did he not feel the same as her, or was he simply afraid to admit his feelings? Did men disconnect their emotions from their arousal?
There was still very little about bedsport that she understood. She wished Torr would explain it all to her.
He placed her into the cooling water and bathed her with soap and gentle hands. How sweet he was, but now he seemed reluctant to meet her gaze.
"I never intended to hurt you," he murmured.
"There was no pain." Well, only a wee bit at the beginning, but he didn't need to know that. "I loved every moment. I never realized the mating could be so..." What word did she search for? She had none.
"Aye, well. 'Tis nay always like that. The potion strengthened it."
She closed her eyes. Why could it not be their special bond that fueled the intensity?
His wet, soapy hands stroking over her, cleansing her, aroused her senses once again, and a small moan slipped out.
Torr's wicked green gaze met hers, assessing. His interest appeared renewed as well.
He rinsed the soap from her body. She arose and pulled him into the tub. When he sat, she stepped out, knelt by the tub, and bathed him. What an indulgence to touch any and every part of him.
