He didn't even need to think to mo
ve, to start the slow, steady undulation of the dance that was, in truth, especially here and now, especially with her, second nature to him.
Their lips melded, parted, came together again; their bodies mirrored the movement. Their rhythm was not something he consciously set, so attuned to her needs, so sunk in her splendor, that he moderated the demands of his body instinctively, matching them to hers.
Until she writhed, sobbed, clung, until her hands sought his shoulders, fingers clutching, sinking deep, clinging frantically as ecstasy beckoned. Her knees rose, clamping about his hips; her hips tilted, taking him deeper, urging him to take, to claim.
He eased back only to spread her thighs wider, lift her knees higher until they gripped his waist, then he drove deeper into her core, deeper into her heat.
She drew back from their kiss, sobbed his name-and it had never sounded so evocative. He braced his arms, lifted his chest from her breasts, then bent his head, claimed her lips, and changed the tenor of their joining.
Changed gliding slide for forceful thrust, changed shallow angle for deeper, more powerful penetration. The strong, repetitive need washed over him; beneath him, she flowered and took him in. Then she seemed to catch her breath, as if her passion welled higher, reached a new level of desire. She boldly met him and matched him, her body caressing his, brazenly intimate.
Her softness drew him in and he was caught, the splendor of her body offering a sumptuous net into which he willingly fell. And then there was no longer her and him, separate entities, but one all-consuming need.
To be one. Utterly, completely-forever.
The wave swept in, broadsided him, lifted them both high on its crest.
Then she shattered, his name on her lips, her body clamping hard about his. Drawing him inexorably with her, into the white heat of the void.
Amanda clung, eyes closed, mind awash with bliss, knowing nothing beyond the incredible pleasure he'd given her, the joy they'd shared-and that he was still with her.
She could feel him, hard and hot at her core, buried so deep he'd touched her heart. She held tight as his body shuddered, convulsed, felt the rush of warmth deep within. Felt the intimacy strongly, powerfully, as with a muted groan he slowly collapsed onto her, their bodies slick, their lungs laboring, their hearts thundering in their ears. The physicality of the deed swept over her, her vulnerability, surrender implicit as she lay trapped beneath him, impaled to her heart.
And she knew she'd committed much more than the act.
Triumph filled her, but not the sort she'd expected to feel. This was a glow, a deeper, richer satisfaction, a tenderness that no girlish delight that he'd wanted her, desired her, and had been driven to have her despite and against his will could ever match.
She was a woman who had found her mate-her one true male-her destiny. Her future, and his.
Drifting on a tide of glory, she reached for him, found his face, trailed her fingers to his lips, then lifted her head and blindly pressed her lips to his.
He returned the caress; their lips clung, then parted.
With a soft sigh, she sank back, and let blissful exhaustion claim her.
He couldn't think.
It was a frightening realization. No matter how hard he tried to focus his mind, it remained blank, overwhelmed.
Martin had no idea how long he'd lain, stretched naked beside Amanda, equally naked, their limbs entwined, before he managed that much rationality. He knew the fact should scare him witless. Instead…
He was all too ready to ignore his mental vacuity, to indulge his senses rather than his wits.
His ever-greedy senses were very ready to be indulged. After all she'd given him, all he'd blindly taken, said senses should have been sated, yet ever since he'd attained some semblance of wakefulness, they'd been clamoring for more.
His gaze drifted possessively over her, slumped naked on his chest, his arms about her. Just where she should be, just as he would have her.
He was accustomed to the afterglow of sensual satiation, yet the depth of contentment that weighted his limbs, that sealed his mind against all thought, enmeshed it in soul-deep satisfaction, was beyond all previous experience. Different in intangible ways, ways he couldn't express.
It was simply more. Much more. Deeper, more profound.
Infinitely more compelling.
More dangerous. More addictive.
Precisely what he needed. Wanted. Even if he hadn't known that before.