Scent of Danger

"Ah, remembering cardinal rule one," Sabrina murmured as he knelt over her.

"Yeah, by a thread." Dylan hooked his arms beneath her knees, opening her for the deepest possible penetration. "Another second and I'd have been too far gone to remember. That's what you do to me. As it is, I've kissed rule three good-bye. Staying detacher's not an option. I'm so involved I can't think straight." He fitted his body to hers, and pushed slowly inside.

Sabrina sucked in her breath. "That feels... amazing. But it's not enough." She arched, trying to deepen his penetration.

"Don't..." Dylan got out between clenched teeth. "You're tight. I'm trying not to—"

"Stop trying. I need you all the way inside me." Sabrina's fists knotted at the base of his spine, pushing him forward and anchoring herself so she could lift up—hard. "To hell with rule two."

She glided around him—slick and trembling—and Dylan lost it entirely.

The muscles in his back flexed, and he thrust deep, burying himself inside her.

The meaning behind her last comment penetrated his passion-drugged mind a split second after he got firsthand confirmation.

He went deadly still, the muscles in his forearms rippling with the strain of holding back. "Damn." He dragged air into his lungs. "Sabrina, are you okay?"

"No... I'm..." She could barely speak, the pleasure jarring along her nerve endings was so intense. She shifted under him, her body adjusting to the incredible sense of fullness, the clawing hunger that coiled tighter inside her now that he was there, stretching and filling her. "Don't stop.... Dylan, please... I'm... dying...."

A hard shudder ran through him. "Not yet you're not." He began moving, each thrust slow and deliberate, his penis rubbing on her and in her, the excruciating friction pushing her closer and closer t

o where she needed to be. "But you will be—soon." He lowered his head and kissed her again, his breathing hard and ragged as he ate at her mouth.

She responded blindly, her mouth as frantic as his, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. "Faster," she gasped, her inner muscles coiling tighter, clamping down on Dylan and stripping him of his last shred of self-restraint. "God, I'm so close.... I..."

Dylan gave a hoarse shout, and his hips pumped convulsively, driving him all the way into her in quick, powerful motions so forceful they shoved the two of them farther and farther up on the bed, until they were flush against the headboard. The thick piece of cherry wood slammed against the wall with each relentless thrust, and the mattress springs groaned and squeaked beneath the onslaught.

Neither of them cared. Without stopping or slowing, Dylan dragged a pillow up to cushion Sabrina's head, and he planted a palm on the wall to brace them from the impact. Sabrina didn't even notice. She wasn't aware of anything except what was happening inside her—and what was about to happen. Her head tossed back and forth, and she sobbed inarticulate words of need that didn't register any more than the heated phrases Dylan was rasping in her ear.

They went over the edge in rapid succession, Sabrina first—by a heartbeat. She climaxed violently, biting back a scream as the spasms boiled up inside her, slammed through her, spiraling out in rhythmic waves that pulsed around Dylan, tore another muffled shout from his chest. He pushed into her contractions, erupting in his own mind-numbing orgasm, gripping the headboard as he came. He continued thrusting in quick, jabbing motions, letting Sabrina's climax milk him until he collapsed on top of her, half-dead.

For long minutes, their harsh, rasping breaths were the only audible sound in the room. Sabrina sank into the mattress, feeling utterly replete, her mind devoid of thought, her body sated. She would have been perfectly content to lie there like that indefinitely, if it hadn't been for the dull pain in back of her neck that began to gradually make its presence known.

She frowned, shifting ever so slightly, and winced. "Ow."

That got Dylan's attention. He raised up on his elbows, his brows knit in concern. "I hurt you. Dammit, Sabrina, I didn't mean to be so rough." He gathered his strength, lifted himself off of her. "I just wish you'd told me you'd never—"

"Dylan," she interrupted, squirming into a sitting position and massaging the spot where her neck throbbed. "If you want to ream me out for not mentioning my virginity, go ahead. But you didn't hurt me. Your headboard did. I feel like someone took a hammer to my neck."

"Oh. Yeah." A slow grin twisted his lips, and he leaned forward, took over the job of massaging her neck. "I tried to buffer the blows, but solid cherry wood is hard to negotiate with."

"Ummm." She relaxed, her eyes sliding shut as she let Dylan ease her taut muscles. "I don't remember slamming into it."

"Let's say your mind was elsewhere."

One eye cracked open. "Stop sounding so smug. Your mind was right there with mine."

"It sure as hell was." His hot gaze moved slowly down her body, lingering in all the right places, drinking in her nakedness in a way his earlier urgency had precluded. His view was limited, since her body was cast in shadows, illuminated only by the filaments of moonlight trickling through the window. "When we make love again, I'm putting on the light. I want to see—and learn—every inch of you."

"Do I get to do the same to you?"

"I'm all yours, sweetheart."

There was something profound about those words, a double entendre they couldn't ignore.

The enormity of what was happening between them struck home, hard.

"Damn." Sabrina exhaled sharply, averting her gaze and dragging an unsteady hand through her hair. "It wasn't supposed to be this unbelievable."