Midnight's Wild Passion

Reluctantly he opened his eyes. In the darkness, he discerned only the faintest details of her face. But her scent filled his head, drugging him with Antonia. Her body squeezed him as she curled her arms around his back. She sighed luxuriantly, shifting so he slid further into her.

Into paradise.

She shifted again and raised her knees, cradling him. He had to cling to this instant.

He had to move or go mad.

On a jagged breath, he slowly withdrew, loving the powerful slide of his cock in her satiny wetness. He paused on a panting instant of suspense, then thrust deep once more.

Again that ineffable feeling of welcome.

She sighed as if she too measured the boundaries of pleasure. With a natural acceptance that made his heart slam against his ribs, she tilted her hips to take more of him.

The world exploded into light. Everything turned physical. Fierce heat sizzling through his veins. The pull and release of his body moving in hers. Her breathy moans of encouragement. He wanted her to come more than he wanted the promise of heaven.

She was close. So close. He felt the sweet change in the grip of her inner muscles. He rose on his arms to watch her although her face was only a pale shape in the gloom.

His change in position made her gasp and push up against him. Her desperate search for consummation made him burn to satisfy her. His balls tightened in agony, but he beat back the savage urge to lose himself.

Not yet. Not yet.

He felt the ripples start inside her. It wasn’t enough. He wanted her to shatter into a million pieces. He wanted to create her anew so she’d never forget him. He wanted her to admit she was helpless under the dominion of this magic.

Changing the rhythm, he penetrated as deep as he could, then held still at the end of each stroke.

Still she didn’t give him what he wanted.

He drove into her hard, sliding her up the bench. She moaned and clutched at his shoulders. The ripples intensified, tormenting him into a frenzy. Still she didn’t break.

Ruthlessly he touched her between the legs. She released a hoarse cry and liquid heat doused him. He stroked again and felt her shudder. Her every move threatened to send him over. Holding back promised to destroy him. His jaw ached with clenching. Hunger blasted him like cannon fire.

Except in the end, he couldn’t sustain the power games. He wanted her too damned much.

With a groan that expressed defeat as much as need, he plunged into her, spiraling higher and higher.

Nearer and nearer.

Her sobbing breath was a storm in his ear. He didn’t know whether she quivered with rapture or pain. He was past stopping. His blood pounded the fevered necessity for release.

Just as he neared his peak, she began to convulse. Her moans broke on a sharp cry. For a moment, as he poised on the edge, he recalled his promise. He burned to pour himself inside her, to mark her in the most primitive way.

But she’d trusted him.

Grinding his teeth with painful force, he held back the swelling release, the agonized need to answer her quivering rapture with a flood of his seed. When her wildness receded, he wrenched free and spilled himself on her tumbled skirts.

Ranelaw collapsed on his back beside Antonia, his chest heaving in exhaustion. Gradually his body quieted. Satisfaction throbbed through him. The air was sharp with sex, mixed with the lake’s muddy smell and dust from the neglected summerhouse.

His mind was pleasantly blank. For the moment, all his sensations were animal. That mighty release left him drifting in a glorious ocean.

He didn’t resist oblivion. It seemed a gift. Just as the coruscating rapture seemed a gift.

Slowly he coasted back from the outer reaches of experience. His mind stirred.

As if she too emerged from another world, he heard Antonia exhale on a shaky breat

h. He waited for her to speak. He heartily wished she wouldn’t. Not yet. Their union had been so perfect, he didn’t want words.

Words inevitably meant argument.