herself—about the kind of woman she was, about her moderate level of sexuality—was simply incinerated by that hot, wet plundering kiss. Making a sound of restraint, he tried to tear his mouth away, but she grasped his face, holding him to her, unable to bear a separation. She knew if they didn’t finish this, if they didn’t take this to the final completion, she would simply crumble into tiny pieces.
His breathing was raw and labored as he ripped his mouth away and fumbled to untie the belt of her robe, roughly pushing her pajama bottoms off her. Another tremor shuddered through him when he touched her nakedness.
Terrified he might stop, that he might do the honorable thing, Amber locked her arms around his neck, her breath catching. But he had not thought of stopping. Yanking back the robe, he hooked one arm under one leg and lifted her up. Pelvis against pelvis he held her fast as he claimed her mouth again, his thick hardness fused against her.
Amber had never known this fever of need, this raw, urgent hunger, and she gave herself up to the frenzied sensations, knowing Tristan would not let her fall.
Roughly changing the angle of his mouth, Tristan thrust against her, and the pulsating heaviness in her groin intensified. Desperate for more, Amber sobbed and locked her legs around him, transfixed by the unbelievable sensations he’d set off inside her. He moved again and she clutched him, her senses disintegrating, desperate for more, much more.
Tearing her mouth away, she lifted herself higher, her voice barely coherent. “Please, Tristan. Please,” she begged hoarsely, rubbing against him again. The unsatisfied pulse thickened, and she found his mouth, desperate for the taste of him, wanting to center her pulsating need.
On a jagged intake of air, Tristan caught her jaw and dragged his mouth away, then jammed her head under his jaw. His breathing still raw and labored, he tried to gentle his hold. Fighting a lungful of air, he stroked her head, his voice so rough it was as if he was speaking through some unmanageable pain. “Amber,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hot against her ear. “Damn, but I can’t take that kind of risk with you.”
But Amber was too far gone to stop. She was protected by the pill. The hunger centered in her was getting stronger. She rocked her pelvis, her breathing just as labored as his. “It’s okay,” she pleaded with him, her voice breaking. “It’s okay. Please, Tristan.”
Desperate to persuade him, she moved against the hard ridge under the soft cotton of his pj pants, and he clutched her and stiffened, his body rigid with tension. She moved again, and he clutched her tighter, then abruptly he turned, backing her against the counter. Bracing her weight, he fumbled with his pants, and Amber cried out when she felt him free and hard.
Blinded by sensation, she arched, expecting him to thrust into her, but instead he pressed his hard heat against her moistness. He started to move, sensitizing her even more. The sensations began to gather and Amber stiffened, right on the brink. On the very brink. As if aware of what was happening to her, he choked out her name and thrust his hardness into her, his body grinding into hers. And in that instant, Amber lost contact with reality.
Every thrust sent her higher and higher until her whole body focused into one white-hot light; then everything exploded, and pulses of release ripped through her, a million lights going off in her head. And on a tortured groan, Tristan twisted his hips, his own release pumping into her.
Incoherent and shattered, she hung on to him for dear life—on to her lifeline, her rock, her center.
It seemed like an eternity passed before bits of consciousness sifted down, like remnants of fireworks. Trembling and weak, and feeling as if every bone in her body had been liquefied, she folded around him, aware of how tightly he was holding her, aware of how badly he was trembling.
Her face wet with tears, she wrapped both arms around his head and tightened her legs, an unbearable tenderness welling up in her as she cradled him against her.
She was so shattered, she was incapable of speech. But she was filled to the brim with feelings for him, and she gently combed her fingers through his hair, wishing she could wrap up every inch of him. He was so infinitely special. So infinitely precious.
Tristan turned his face against her neck, his