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Slowly Alex slid her arms around his back, pressed her face against the solid strength of his chest. She could feel the chill leave her as he enveloped her in the power of his embrace, molded each soft contour of her body to his hardened ones. Their legs intertwined, roughness and silk as one, their arms tightened about each other. For long moments neither of them spoke or moved, the only sound being the soft crackling of the fire. She could feel his arousal, hard and throbbing against her stomach, but he made no move to join their bodies. With a will of its own Alex could feel her body begin to respond to his nearness, pulsing slowly to life until her own breathing was irregular and her skin was covered with a fine sheen of perspiration.
Drake felt it, too, and a wave of relief swept through him. He could still make her feel something, be it only desire. He had been so afraid. And although he knew it was only a shell of what it had been before, he took what she offered him greedily and with a hunger that made him weak.
He lifted his head and, unwilling to see the bleakness in her eyes, lowered his mouth to hers, seeking another truth. She tasted so sweet, so right. He parted her lips and drank more deeply of her intoxicating flavor, inhaled the wonderful floral scent that was Alex. His heart soared as she opened to him, meeting his tongue with her own, gliding her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. All realities dissolved but this one, the reality that was in his arms.
Alex. His heart called out to her again and again, a silent message conveyed by his body. His lips left hers to brush butterfly kisses along her cheeks, nose, and chin, down the slender column of her neck, up to the delicate shell of her ear. His breath was hot and raspy as his tongue traced the soft lobe tenderly, with infinite gentleness. He felt her shudder in his arms.
“Ah, Alex,” he murmured into her ear, “respond to me, love; just let your body take over. Give me your beauty, your passion. … God, Alex, breathe life back into my soul.” He bit down lightly and she moaned.
“Drake …”
“I know, princess, I know.”
She shook her head frantically at the painfully familiar e
ndearment and tugged his head down to her breast. She didn’t want to think, only to feel.
Drake responded to her gesture by running his tongue along the soft mounds of her breasts, drawing each nipple into his mouth, first lightly, then with such force that she cried out, arching her back.
He lifted his head, his face flushed with emotion and need. Her eyes were closed, her skin suffused with a rosy glow. She was so beautiful lying there bathed in firelight, her body telling him how much it wanted him.
Drake braced himself on one arm and slid his other arm beneath her, lifting her from the bed, burying his lips in hers for another shattering kiss. She clung to him, both arms around his neck, and he slid his hand down the smooth skin of her back, over the gently rounded curve of her hip and onto the silkiness of her inner thighs. She opened to him at once, parting her legs to his stroking fingers.
At his first touch she whimpered, and he groaned. She was hot and soft and satiny wet with her desire for him. The feel of her was enough to push him over the edge; he wanted to savor her and devour her all at once. His emotions were dangerously close to the surface, his body burning alive. But he wanted these moments to last; he needed to hold at bay what lay beyond tonight.
Softly, gently, he stroked his hand up and down her delicate flesh, until she was digging her nails into his back and begging him to end the torture. He worsened it instead. Gradually, maddeningly, he slid his fingers inside her, giving her a teasing penetration that brought her closer to the edge.
“Drake, don’t do this,” she pleaded, squirming helplessly against him.
“Let it last,” he breathed back. “Let it go on forever.”
“I can’t. Nothing can …”
“You can. We will.” His hoarse whisper was insistent, speaking of far more than their lovemaking.
“Drake! I need you!” she sobbed.
“And I need you.” He pressed her legs farther apart with his knees, settling himself between them.
“Alex.” He cupped her face, demanding with his hands and his tone that she look at him.
She opened her eyes, and their gazes locked for the first time since he had come to her bed.
“I’m your husband, Alex. Give yourself to me.” And he drove into her with force and despair and an uncontrollable need to have her back.
They moved together in a rhythm that belonged to them. For the moments their bodies were joined nothing existed but the intensity of their union. There was no room for pain or fear or even doubt. There was only the power of his body moving inside hers, the softness of her body closing around his.
They reached the unbearable peak together. Alex tore her mouth from his, cried out in racking pleasure and welcome release. Drake lunged forward onto her and into her, calling her name again and again as he spilled himself deep inside her. Even as he helplessly surrendered to his own painful pleasure, he was acutely aware of his wife. He reveled in her cries of ecstasy, the hard contractions of her body gripping his, the stark beauty of her face in the throes of her release, even the tiny quiverings of her inner muscles in the glorious aftermath of their passion, when their bodies were still as one.
He held her while she slept,, unwilling to let her go, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his chin atop her silky head. A cold dread grew inside him and settled tightly in his chest as he relived the past hour.
Their passion had burned as brightly as ever, yet even as Alex gave herself to him, she had held a part of herself back. Once her passion alone would have been enough for him. But no longer. Having tasted the rare gift of Alex’s love, Drake wasn’t satisfied with her body alone. He wanted it all—her heart, her soul, her trust.
He had had it once. Damn it, he would have it again. But before he could convince himself of that, another sinking realization about tonight’s lovemaking asserted itself in his mind.
Alex hadn’t said she loved him. For the first time in months she had not sobbed out her love for him at the moment of her climax.
He stared down into her face, soft and relaxed now in slumber.
