Opening her eyes, Risa watched as he laid her back against the pillows, his black eyes gentle and still filled with heat as he spread her thighs and moved over her.
A sharp inhalation jerked through her as the head of his cock pressed inside her pussy. His expression tightened, a grimace covering it as he worked his erection inside her.
This was more than simply pleasure. Watching him, feeling his hunger meld with her own, feeling his body become a part of her. The sensations wrapped around her, flooded her senses, and left her gasping with the sheer power of it.
“Just a little more,” he groaned, his hips thrusting slow and easy as he filled her with his cock. “Sweet Risa. I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never get enough of you.”
It was like flying. Risa had never known such freedom of pleasure, just intensity, as she felt in Micah’s arms. She watched, her gaze centered between their bodies as he took her. Her flesh parting, hugging the hard, flushed shaft as he filled her, then left her empty, only to fill her again.
Her hands gripped the hard biceps as he held himself up by his powerful arms. Thrusting against her, filling her with the heated power of his hunger, his thrusts.
The pleasure was never-ending now. She arched to each thrust, watching as he retreated, gasping each time he filled her. She was dying in his arms and she didn’t care. Flying until a ragged cry tore from her chest and she exploded around him again.
He lay fully over her then, his arms curling beneath her, his hands holding on to her as his thrusts increased, each driving stroke pushing her own orgasm higher until he gave a hoarse groan and spilled his release inside her.
Satiation held its own moments of peace. Those minutes spent drifting back to reality, where nothing mattered but the sensation of fulfillment, completeness.
Risa let herself luxuriate in that feeling. In the satisfying sense of being bound to someone else, if only for this moment.
She didn’t want to lose it. She didn’t want to let him go until reality and the danger surrounding her forced her to.
She wanted to lie, just like this, forever. She wanted to capture this moment within her soul and know that when the loneliness came, she could take it out and relive the feeling.
She let her fingers test the resiliency of his shoulders; she felt the morning shadow of a beard against her cheek.
“You make me damned weak, Risa,” he finally groaned, shifting from her but going to his side as he dragged her against his chest.
“You’re always strong,” she said softly, and she knew it was the truth.
But she had her own strength. A strength she hadn’t known she had. One she had found in the realization that nothing was as it seemed.
Perhaps, she thought, she had grown up last night when she had stepped into that room, seen her friends gathered there and the pictures that were laid out.
They had all seen the pictures. They had known her shame, and they felt pity for her. But she didn’t pity herself, at least not any longer.
“When you leave,” she whispered against his chest, “will I ever see you again?”
And she knew the answer to that.
“No.”
She hadn’t expected the truth from him.
“Risa.”
She moved, covering his lips with her fingers and staring back at him soberly.
“No excuses,” she said firmly. “No apologies. And no lies. Thank you for that.”
But she had to force back the tears, because a part of her had dreamed of hearing the lie.
Micah kept his lips closed; he kept his thoughts to himself when they threatened to spill from his lips with all the dreams he knew he wasn’t supposed to have.
Instead, his hand lifted, his fingertips caressing over her silken lips as he stared down at her. No promises, he reminded himself. No lies. From here on out, from this moment on, he could never lie to her. He could never do anything to make her pain greater.
He had to leave her. Soon, the day would come that he would walk from his other half.
That knowledge tore into him like dull knives. It ripped at his soul; it shredded the man he was and left only Risa’s man in its place.