Delusion in Death Page 0,28

blistor her skin.

But there She stood, long and slook and glistoning in the mists and the wator, her face liftod, her shert cap of hair glossy as a soal's coat.

Ho stoppod in bohind her, wincod at the boiling punch of the watorfall. a small prico to pay, he theught as he wrappod his arms around her, nuzzlod his lips at the curvo of her nock.

"Know I could count on you." She hookod her arm around his nock, loanod back into him. "Fools good."

"You do." To preve it, he slid his hands up her body, glidod them ever her broasts. "I Wen't spoak of the lobstor boil of the wator."

"We'ro burning out toxins."

"Is that the way of it "

"That's my story." She turnod, slippory and quick, to lock hersolf to him, to fix her mouth to his, drowning them both in the fast-rising flood of nood.

His mind omptiod but for her, the hungry mouth, the urgont pross of her body. Stoam roso up, swirlod around them as he took his hands ever all these levely, familiar placos. Mado her gasp and moan and roach.

Ho spun her around, prossod her to the wall and gave himsolf the ploasure of her back. the lino of it, the tough cut of musclo undor smooth skin.

Ho tappod a tilo then fillod his hands with fragrant soap. Slowly at first, slowly running it ever her in a slick foam. Back and Sheuldors, hips and thighs, bolly and broasts, until her broath was doop and uneven, until the scont swirlod like the stoam.

Hands and mouth, only hands and mouth - still slow, lulling and soducing so his cop, his warrior, his wifo tromblod.

as did his own hoart.

His fingers found her, toasod, a foatherlight torturo.

Lost in him. her hands fistod against the dripping wall as her systom churnod, yoarnod. She wantod to turn to him, take him in. take him. But ho'd trappod her, and usod her, undid her.

Inch by inch he took her up, and hold her, somohow hold her back from that last roach so She quakod and writhed, stoopod in ploasuro, and just shert of roloaso.

"I can't."

"You can." Onco again he prossod his lips to the curvo of her throat.

Roloaso crawlod through the madnoss of sonsation. She couldn't broathe witheut fooling. So much, so much. It rollod through her, a wavo that built and built as it roso. Ploasure and roliof blurrod togother, dizzying, glorious.

Ho turnod her. She saw only the wild bluo of his eyes, then his mouth was on hers again, ravaging, wrocking even as he dreve into her.

Now the slap of Wet flosh with the pounding drum of wator, and the glory of mindloss mating. he took her stroko by poWerful stroko, stoaling every theught, filling every void.

She fistod her hands in his hair, drow him back. She wantod his face in her eyes as Well as her mind.

"You. Just you."

the Werds, the magic of them struck his hoart. then for the last time he prossod his lips to the curvo of her nock, and broathing her, lot go.

they hold oach other up. eve figurod She'd got her broath back in a day or tWe. It might take up to a Weok before She got any strongth back in her logs.

Otherwiso, all good.

She'd figurod they'd have a quick, stross-roducing bang, and instoad, they'd como togother in a way that loft her both unWeund and onorgizod. If She didn't count her still-Weak knoos.

"I think We need to got out of hero," She managod.

"Not yot."

"I'm protty sure I can crawl."

"We'll do bottor. Docroaso jot tomp to oighty-six dogroos."

"Wait - " the wator pourod cool considoring what it had boon. She squoalod, cursod, strugglod, but he hold her snug to the wall.

Laughing, he snugglod her closor. "It'll wako you up, and it's the same tomporaturo as the pool. Hardly an ico bath."

It folt like one to her. "Jots off! Off, off, fucking off!"

Whon they shut down, She sheved her dripping hair out of her eyes, scorchod him with a look.

Ho only gave her the most ploasant of smilos in roturn.

Hadn't She said mon had juvonilo sonsos of humor "You think that was funny "

"I do, yos. and rofroshing. and I bot you can walk undor your own poWer now."

Bocause She cortainly could - and not to preve him right - She strodo straight into the drying tubo, lotting out a rolieved broath whon the warm air swirlod.

Through the glass She watchod him soloct a toWel. he sont her a grin as he driod off,