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He laid his lips on hers, slid his hand over her. His tongue slipping in to soothe, his finger slipping in to arouse with a patient seduction opposed to that steely grip on her wrists.
Even as she murmured a protest, her arms went limp. Dazed, she began toeing off her boots, and the movement of her own body shuddered her over peak.
She was hot and wet and trembling.
He wanted to touch, to taste, to explore and exploit every inch of her. Releasing her hands, he moved down her body. And when his mouth clamped over her, she erupted.
Her hands grabbed at his hair as she choked on gasps. But he only gripped her hips and continued to destroy her.
She was his now. In this garden, in this world. She was his.
Her world was spinning, all the color and scent gone mad around her. His mouth was like a fever, burning against her with a torment so exquisite it felt like death.
She could feel the heat rolling through her again, filling her, pumping into her blood and bone until it burst like a nova and left her shattered.
And still he wouldn’t stop.
“I can’t. I can’t.”
“I can.”
When the next rush buckled her knees, he pulled her down.
This time he dragged her arms over her head and once again locked her wrists together. “Do you remember the first time I had you? I can’t, you said, but you did.”
“Damn it.” Her body bowed up. “I want you inside me.”
“I will be.” He closed his free hand over her breast. “I can make you come this way now. You’re primed for it. Everything in you is ready for me.”
His hand was like magic over her skin. Under it her breast felt impossibly full, unbearably sensitive. And her heart beat like a fist.
“It pleasures me to watch it take you over.”
He watched now as the helpless pleasure raced over her face, as her breath came faster through her lips. She bowed up again, a trembling arch.
Then burst. Then melted.
He shifted away, began to undress.
She lay sprawled, damp, naked, conquered on the soft green grass. She wore only a long chain from which dripped the fat tear of a diamond, and the simple St. Jude’s medal. He’d given her those, symbols and shields. That she would wear them, together, moved him unbearably.
Her arms stayed flung over her head as he’d left them. Surrendered, as she surrendered to no one else.
He was rock hard and desperate to mate.
He straddled her, ran his hands over her face, her throat, her breasts. “Eve.”
She saw his face so intense, so strongly beautiful in the deep shade. A trio of thin sunbeams shot down through the leaves and flashed light over his hair.
“I want you to take me. Is that what you need to hear? I want to be taken, as long as it’s by you.”
He drove himself into her. Shoved her knees back and drove himself deeper. She cried out, the shock of sensation slicing through her as he plunged.
“Harder,” she demanded and yanked until his mouth was on hers again. “Harder.”
His body quivered, and control snapped like brittle glass. Caught up in his own madness he ravished her mouth, her body. Pounding as he heard her cry out, pounding as he felt her gather again.
“With me.” He took her hands, linking fingers now. “Come with me.”
