Free In Too Deep by Jayne Ann Krentz

overcome by a sense of wonder. He cupped the gentle swell of one of her breasts in his hand and drew his thumb across the tight little nipple.
    “You’re so beautiful,” he said.
    “No,” she said. “But you make me feel beautiful.” She flattened her palms on his bare chest and slid her fingers up to close around his shoulders. “You, however, are absolutely gorgeous.”
    He knew he was probably turning red, but he did not care.
    “Sounds like we have a mutual admiration society going here,” he said.
    “Works for me.”
    He fell with her onto the bed, careful to make certain that he landed on the bottom. She sprawled on top of him and kissed him with an abandon that enthralled him. He felt her warm, damp mouth on his throat and then his shoulder. She started to go lower.
    In an effort to get a grip on what was left of his self-control, he rolled Isabella under him, anchoring her there. In response her eyes became luminous. He could have sworn that the energy level in the bedroom kicked up a few more degrees. The place was so hot now, he half expected bolts of real lightning to appear.
    He wanted to take his time, to make everything perfect for her, to imprint himself on her so that she would never forget him. But when he moved his hand down over her belly and slipped his fingers under the waistband of her panties, he discovered the liquid heat between her thighs. The scent of her arousal drove him to the edge. He groaned. The knowledge that she was so hot and wet for him undermined what little was left of his control. He was a man in the grip of a raging fever, and he had never felt more alive.
    When he probed she made a soft, low sound and twisted beneath him. Her nails sank into his back. He raised his head and looked down at her.
    “I want you,” he said.
    He knew that his voice sounded stark and savage with the force of his need. He was afraid that he might frighten her. But she wrapped herself around him and opened her thighs so that he could settle between her legs.
    He seized the invitation and thrust into her. She was snug and tight and he was desperate not to hurt her. He longed to please her but the need to join with her in the most intimate, elemental way was paramount tonight. The small muscles of her passage resisted at first but he pushed steadily deeper until she sighed and closed around him, accepting him completely.
    He dragged his mouth across hers as if he could somehow seal the bond between them with a kiss.
    “Remember me,” he grated.
    “Always.”
    Then he began to move within her, seeking the rhythms that pleased her. She clutched at his shoulders. Her head tilted back on the pillow. She closed her eyes.
    He felt the tension gathering in her. She started to tremble in his arms. He sensed the first small contractions sweeping through her lower body.
    “Fallon,” she gasped.
    Everything inside him went rigid. For a timeless moment he hung there with her on the edge of the abyss. The searing intimacy was the most profound sensation he had ever experienced.
    The storm broke. And then he was flying with Isabella into the dazzling energy that fueled the heart of chaos.

7
    H e awoke to the sweet-and-sour aroma of the ginger-scented soup. He could hear Isabella moving about in the kitchen. He hauled his arm up over his face and looked at his watch. An hour had passed since he had carried Isabella into the bedroom and made love to her as though the future of the world depended on it. Maybe his own future had depended on it, he thought. One thing was certain. He felt a hell of a lot better than he had an hour ago. Almost human again.
    He climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. When he saw the man in the mirror, his sense of well-being faded rapidly. It was replaced with dread.
She’ll want to talk about it
, he thought. He was not good with conversations of that sort.
    He washed up, dressed and went back into the front room, determined to do what a man had to do. Isabella was waiting