"I want to go slow with you, but . . ." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, giving a slight press of his pelvis. The head of his penis nudged into her, testing. "Ah, Christ . . . you feel too good."
Mira's heart was banging in her chest like a caged bird, every nerve ending quivering with an urgent need. "I don't want to go slow. There's been too much time standing between us. No more, Kellan. Not right now."
He nodded, eyes rooted on her as he gave another experimental thrust. "You're so tight. Just like the first time we were together."
She'd been a virgin that first time - the only time - she and Kellan made love. He had been too. Although their desire had been mutual, undeniable for years before that night, they'd never taken it so far. She'd been too young at first, then, later, when she was a woman, Kellan had thrown himself into his duty with the Order, taking on missions that sent him away for weeks, sometimes months at a time. But he always came back to her, and when he did, it never took long for them to end up in a tangle of arms and legs and questing mouths.
They'd learned to pleasure each other in other ways before that moment eight years ago until, finally, need had proven greater than any amount of denial or restraint. Mira had given herself to Kellan and he to her.
It had been magical. Miraculous. Until a few hours later, when a rebel's bomb took all of that away.
She gazed up at Kellan, poised above her in the soft quiet of his bed. Her heart was still broken from everything that had happened that night and in the time since. But this moment was real. It was now. It was theirs.
She smiled at the feel of his nakedness all over her, moaned in pleasured pain as the head of his cock stretched her impossibly tight around him. He was so careful with her. Too careful. She reached up, stroked his handsome face. "There's been no other for me either, Kellan. Not in all this time."
A flash of bewilderment raced across his features. "No one?"
She shook her head. "Only you."
"Ah, God." He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, they were blazing with a newer, fiercer light. He wasn't happy. Not at all. "Ah, Christ, Mouse. Damn you for that. Damn both of us for not having the sense to let go."
With a growl through gritted teeth and fangs, he pushed inside her on a swift, deep thrust. Mira cried out as he filled her, biting her lip as the sharp, initial sting of his invasion gave way to a glorious completion.
Oh, fuck.
He felt so good.
She felt so good, holding him buried within her.
She knew this dance with him, every instinct within her responding like it had been only yesterday that she'd last kissed him like this - naked and breathless, skin on skin, melting with pleasure and hungry for more. Their first time together had been branded into her senses, a memory she'd carried all this time. It had been all she'd had left of him, and she'd clung to it as she would her own soul.
And now she had Kellan with her again. Inside her.
His name was a ragged whisper on her lips as he increased his tempo, each long push going deeper, stoking the fire that was already roaring inside her. His mouth covered hers as the first broken cry of her climax curled up from the back of her throat.
He showed her no quarter, but then, she hadn't wanted any. Not like this. Not when her need for him was still so raw and unsated.
But her orgasm was building swiftly. It raced up on her with his every stroke and retreat, every kiss and caress carrying her higher, closer to the edge. Kellan drove into her with relentless purpose, pushing her mercilessly toward the cliff.
"Oh, God," she gasped as the first hot waves crashed into her. "Kellan."
Mira held on to him and tumbled headlong into the pleasure of the moment.
The pleasure of this reunion, no matter how fleeting her heart feared it might be.
Chapter Eleven
ONLY ONCE IN HIS LIFE HAD KELLAN FELT THE TIGHT, WET bliss of Mira's body sheathing him. Only once had he known the sweet clench of her womb around his cock, the tiny undulations of her climax milking him, wringing him out. He'd remembered that one time with vivid clarity - or so he'd thought, until the sight of Mira coming for him now, clinging to him and gasping his name in heated frenzy, made everything he thought he knew seem pale and dry as dust.
Christ, she was beautiful.
Her blond hair was a wild tangle on his pillow, her porcelain-perfect skin gone pink with the rush of blood to her cheeks and across the lovely mounds of her pert breasts. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, dark lashes at half-mast. She sucked in a sigh through parted lips that were bruised a dark red from his kiss, her rosebud mouth trembling with each rising pant of her breath. She clutched at him as another deep shudder racked her.
Transfixed, triumphant, Kellan watched her orgasm sweep over her. It gripped him in its hot fist as she trembled with the force of her release. His cock twitched, leapt, ready to explode, his own climax building to the point of torture.
But it was a delicious agony. A pain so good, he wanted to keep it going forever. Mira began to shatter again, her small body going tense beneath him, her breath racing, pulse thudding hard against him everywhere they touched. He coaxed her higher, rolling into her with deep, penetrating strokes, fanning the flames of her pleasure.
"Don't stop," she whispered brokenly. "Oh, God, Kellan . . . please . . . don't ever stop."