Scent of Danger

He moved between her thighs, propping himself on his elbows to take some of his weight. Sabrina wrapped her legs around his, arched to take him, her fingers digging into his biceps, pulling him into her.

He pushed deep, hard, stretching her and filling her. The sensation was beyond description. Every nerve ending in Sabrina's body screamed to life, everything inside her tightened, tightened.... God, he'd barely gotten inside her and she was about to come, it was so spectacular.

Too spectacular.

A heartbeat away from orgasm, Sabrina froze.

"Dylan."

His lips were buried against her throat, and he didn't answer, his breath a warm, unsteady rasp against her skin. He was pulsing inside her, as close to the edge as she was.

He withdrew slowly, then pushed all the way back in. "God." A hard shudder wracked his body. "I can't wait. You feel too good."

It took Sabrina a few seconds to speak, the pleasure was so acute. And all her energies were focused on fighting the climax that was about to peak inside her. "Dylan!" She shoved at his shoulders.

This time her tone registered. He raised his head, stared down at her with eyes that were almost black with passion. Sweat dotted his forehead, dampened the ends of his hair. "What's wrong?" He forced out the words. "Does it hurt?"

"No. No, but..." God, it would be so easy to dismiss the whole thing, to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down to her, to lose herself in this exquisite, unimaginable madness.

And if it were just the two of them, if there was nothing else at stake, she would.

"Sabrina..." Dylan's fingers were shaking as they touched her cheek. "What is it?"

"You're not wearing... a condom."

Shock dilated his pupils. "Shit." He gritted his teeth, all the veins in his neck standing out as he called upon his failing reserves. "Don't move. Don't even breathe. It'll be too much."

She understood. She felt the same way. She almost screamed in frustration when he pulled out of her. Fists clenched, she waited while he crawled over to his pants and yanked out a foil packet. He could barely get the thing on, his hands were shaking so badly. But he was back in seconds, his body so taut, Sabrina could feel him vibrating.

"This is going to be barbarically quick," he ground out, already pushing into her. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. It couldn't be quick enough for her. She was dying.

He plunged deep, and Sabrina cried out, the tension coiling too tight to bear, then unraveling in spasms that shook her to the core, and milked Dylan well past the point of no return.

He shouted her name, thrusting into her climax, meeting it with his own. His entire body convulsed, again and again, his hips pumping wildly as he came.

Recovery took longer than the act itself, both of them struggling to drag air into their lungs. The cushions hadn't survived the chaos, and were shoved haphazardly around on the floor, leaving nothing under Sabrina but the area rug. Dylan's full weight was on her, and the hardwood floor beneath the rug anchored her so he was even deeper inside her than usual.

Moving seemed too exhausting to consider.

Neither of them considered it.

Time passed.

Eventually, Dylan gathered up his strength and lifted himself off of her. He looked dazed and spent, yet there was a fine tension rippling through him that Sabrina sensed right away. She lay quietly, watching him, uncertain whether to address the issue or let him take the lead.

Neither happened.

Dylan stood up, and went into the bathroom to deal with the condom. A minute later, he emerged and walked back over to where she lay. His lids were hooded, but he looked intense, brooding, as he loomed over her.

"We need to talk," he stated flatly.

"Okay." Sabrina's muscles felt like water. She moved them gingerly, wondering if she'd be able to stand.

Dylan eliminated the problem by dropping down to his knees beside her. He cupped her face between his palms and gazed directly into her eyes. "I'm in love with you. I don't want to take it a day at a time. I don't want to do without commitments and expectations. I don't give a damn about the other pressures and demands in our lives. They'll be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. We'll deal with them—together. I want permanence. I want marriage. I want children. And I want them with you."

Sabrina just stared at him, his words penetrating her mind slowly, like a fine wine, until they registered. Then, she did something she rarely did. She burst into tears.