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Making it all the more precious.
With shaking hands, Slayde flung Courtney’s towels aside, staring worshipfully down at her before lowering his head, his mouth burning kisses down her throat, her neck, the upper swell of her breasts. He shifted, nuzzling her nipple into a damp, hardened peak, then drawing it into his mouth, first slowly, then repeatedly, powerfully, until Courtney was whimpering with need and Slayde’s breath was coming in harsh, painful rasps. Still, he didn’t stop, moving to her other breast, rendering the same exquisite torture until Courtney was sure she would die.
“God, I need all of you,” he muttered thickly, his fingers gliding down, parting her thighs, finding and penetrating her all at once.
“Slayde.” Courtney sobbed his name, opening to his touch, her hips lifting in silent plea when his finger slid inside her, began an unbearable rhythm of plunge and retreat. “Slayde,” she managed, undulating to meet his caresses. “I’m dying.”
“So am I.” He rose, cast his breeches to the floor and knelt between her parted thighs, his gaze hot, wild.
He needed more.
Drowning in desire and emotion, Slayde lifted her legs over his shoulders, burying his mouth in her sweetness.
Courtney unraveled at the first lash of his tongue, the feelings too strong to fight, the climax too essential to delay. She heard herself scream, felt the clawing release erupt inside her, spasm after shuddering spasm gripping her, hurling her into a sensual oblivion too beautiful to experience alone.
“Slayde,” she gasped, tugging at his arms as he raised his head, gazed at her with a wealth of yearning in his eyes. “Please…I need you inside me.”
With a groan of surrender, Slayde complied, fitting his body to hers and burying himself to the hilt in one perfect, inexorable thrust. Her contractions clasped at his length, shattering his control, instantly propelling him over the edge of intoxicating sensation. “Courtney.” He pounded into her, his thrusts wild, uncontrollable, his fingers biting into her hips as he worked them to meet the frenzied motion of his. “Courtney.” He went rigid, his entire being focused on that highest pinnacle of sensation.
He toppled over the edge, crushing her against him, pouring into her in bottomless, scalding bursts, seeking her womb in an inherent need to give her everything—his love, his soul.
His child.
“Yes.” Fervently, Courtney held him, feeling the same reckless need as he, her body opening to receive his seed. She shuddered, her own spasms heightened by the euphoric knowledge that she and Slayde were one, that he was a part of her and she of him.
Slayde collapsed, tremors still vibrating through his powerful frame as he blanketed Courtney, dragged air into his lungs. Eyes shut, he savored the lingering filaments of sensation, acutely aware of the warm wetness of his seed, not spilled on the sheets beside him, but buried deep inside Courtney.
He awaited the onslaught of guilt.
It never came.
Worry, however, did—the instant he felt Courtney go limp beneath him.
Shifting his weight to his elbows, Slayde brushed damp tendrils of hair off her face, panic streaking through him in lightning waves when she remained unmoving, eyes closed. Had he hurt her? She was so slight and delicate and, Lord only knew, there had been nothing delicate about the way he’d just taken her. He’d been a wild man, frenzied with his need to possess her, to reassure himself that she was alive and whole and here in his arms. He’d been lost to his own raw emotions, oblivious to her ribs, her head, her brush with death—the second in a fortnight—everything but the hollow aching in his soul.
“Courtn
ey.” He uttered her name with hoarse urgency. “Look at me.”
Her lashes fluttered and lifted slightly, providing Slayde with a quick glimpse of dazed, sea-green eyes.
“Did I hurt you?”
A faraway smile. “Hurt me?” She sighed, shifting slightly. “Oh, no.”
Relief flooded through him in great, untamed waves. Reason intruded, reminding him that, whether or not she was aware of it, his weight was too much for her. He began to lift himself away, only to discover that to do so was a sheer impossibility—not because he was physically unable, but because he was emotionally unwilling. To separate his body from Courtney’s was an intolerable option.
He solved the problem by rolling to one side and taking her with him. Gently, he cradled her in his arms, her head tucked beneath his chin, his body still imbedded in hers.
“How’s that?” he murmured.
“Ummm,” Courtney mumbled, snuggling closer.
Myriad emotions—vast, extraordinary—knotted in Slayde’s chest, and tenderly, he kissed Courtney’s disheveled crown of red-gold hair. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I lost my mind entirely. Are you all right?”
She tipped back her head, her lips softly parted, her cheeks flushed with the lingering effects of their passion. “ ‘All right’? No. Overwhelmed, exhilarated, dazed, awed—yes. But ‘all right’? No. Never again.” With a tremulous smile, she brushed her fingertips across his chin. “And you? Are you all right?”
“No.” Slayde pressed her palm to his lips. “I’m humbled.” He kissed her wrist, her forearm, her shoulder. “I’m drunk with discovery.” He raised his head, gazed into her eyes. “And I’m so in love it astounds me.”
