inside her fragrant depths. As if she knew, her hand tightened on the sensitive ring beneath his crest.
"Move with me," she said. "Pretend that we are joined."
He did as she directed, tightening his hindquarters to push himself through her hold. Without even trying they began to breathe together, gasping in tandem, tensing in tandem, as the end he craved and wished would last forever rumbled like an avalanche into view.
It was a panic in him, to make it last, to engrave the moment in his mind. He showered her face with kisses, a gesture he could not withhold.
"Sweet Luisa," he said, her name a cry for things he'd lost so long ago their only trace was a tangled hurt. He nuzzled her swollen nipple, drawing it with her robe between his teeth.
"Take it," she said, tearing the wool away with her other hand. "Take what you want." She arched up to him and gave him what he longed for. The tip of her breast was softer than silk against his tongue. She moaned as he sucked and the sound was flames licking through his skin.
The final rise was more intense than he had dreamed a man could feel. He hung on a cutting wire, its promise of imminent fall sublime. To plummet, to give in… But wrong as the physical pleasure was, it was not enough. His body demanded more. Union. Penetration. He had no mind then; he only had desire.
With a curse of resignation, he wrenched his mouth away.
"I cannot pretend," he said harshly, drawing his fingers from her sweetly clinging sex. "I belong inside you."
"No. Don't relinquish your vow for me." Her hand pressed his fingers back to her softness and her mouth opened on his neck. He was dizzy, confused. Her tongue trembled briefly on his skin. "Now. Come with me now."
She did not even have to bite him. Energy rushed up through his feet, a flood of unstoppable golden-white. He felt the barrier around her aura give, swirling and blending into his. She caught her breath, but not in pain. He had a second to wonder at her reaction and then his climax burst like a never-ending fountain. One instant his shaft was pure, burning steel, the next a convulsing instrument of bliss. His groan echoed through the little chamber, as strange to his ears as this ecstasy was to his body. Again the tight, squeezing shock lanced through him, again, again, a release so deep it seemed to rake his soul.
He did not realize she had joined him until the last flickering pull of her sheath tugged at his hand.
She wriggled as it faded and relaxed against him, her mouth curled, her cheeks rosy, her eyes glowing like emeralds fringed with gold. He could not contain a flush of pride at her satisfaction. His head was light but strangely clear. Already his weakness was fading. Then he looked down at the much diminished organ she still held in her hand. She was petting it as if she relished its sticky softness. So much for pride, he thought.
It seemed important to acknowledge what she had done.
"I must thank you," he said. "I would have taken you if you had not stopped me."
She batted her lashes and dragged one sticky finger across her tongue. The gesture nearly put him in a trance.
"Maybe I did save you," she said playfully. "And maybe you would have found your strength."
He shook his head to clear it. "You should not give me more credit than I deserve."
Her eyes hooded as if she were embarrassed to have been caught doing him a kindness. "I know you are not used to facing urges of that strength. It seemed unfair to let you do something you would regret. Especially when I still need your help."
Martin did not believe her explanation, though he chose to pretend he did. "I do not know what else I can try. Unless…" He pushed up from her, recalling the way her aura had momentarily seemed to welcome his. He knew orgasm called up a special energy from the earth, an energy transmuted by the nature of the connection between the partners.
All of which
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain