She cried out-the sound, laden with sharp delight, echoed through the room. His hand shifted on her flesh, and she was burning, burning-incandescent within.

Heat and flames were everywhere, raging through her-molten rivers of pleasure and urgent need flowed, a hot tide, from where they joined. The tide swelled, reaching ever higher, consuming her body, buoying her mind, her senses-lifting them high on a rush of pure passion.

Higher-ever higher.

His hand slid over her fevered flesh, from breast to hip, then around to her rear. He caressed her there-with a smothered gasp, she locked her arms about his shoulders and lifted slightly; instantly, his hand slid lower, caressing her bottom knowingly, evocatively, possessively, then reaching further to trace the line beneath the tight globes.

She shuddered-and felt like she was shattering. Blown apart by the heat and the burgeoning frenzy. He set her down and tipped her back, his hands once again at her hips. He angled them; without thought, she lifted her legs and wrapped them about his waist.

Instantly, he filled her deeply, completely; as he drew back, his fingers slid into the damp curls between her widespread thighs, straight to the nubbin of flesh he'd earlier teased.

He touched her there-and reality shook. She clutched tight-in desperation, she tried to cling to her wits, to her spiralling senses…

"Let go." His lips touched hers briefly-hotly. "Throw your heart over."

She heard the raspy order as he touched her again-she obeyed, and soared high.

Her world exploded.

She lost her senses utterly-lost all touch with reality. She was swept up by a force she couldn't describe-hot and powerful, it propelled her into pleasure. Deep, bone-melting pleasure.

It surrounded her like a sea, and left her floating in ecstasy.

To her surprise, her senses returned, heightened but focused solely on him. She felt his hard hands, first gentling, then gripping her, felt the force surge and sweep through his body-and into hers as he drove deep into her molten flesh. She heard his guttural groan as the force caught him, too.

Then he joined her in the void. She felt the warmth of him deep in her womb. Felt the heat of his body beneath her hands as she clung to him, and surrendered.

To the force behind their passion.

Eons later in the depths of the night, she awoke. Slowly, as always. Her mind struggled free of the wisps of sleep, only to slide into mists of confusion.

Her nerves made the dizzying leap from somnolence to excitement-befuddled by sleep, she couldn't understand why. It was full dark. She was lying on her back in the middle of a comfortable bed. A tickling sensation-it had started at the base of her stomach, just above her curls-that was what had woken her-was slowly progressing up her body. Over her stomach, past her navel, over her waist, steadily upward.

Some part of her mind was shrieking for her to react-but her limbs were too weighted-pleasurably weighted-for her to make any rash move. The tickling changed to nuzzling beneath her breasts, then warm kisses followed one curve up and over.

Demon's mouth closed over her nipple.

She sucked in a tortured breath and abruptly came to life. Not, however, quite as her mind intended. Held between his hands, she arched, flagrantly offering her breast-he accepted immediately, laving the tip, then taking it deep in his mouth.

Flick heard a soft, strangled cry-then realized it was hers. The searing wetness shocked her anew. Opening her eyes, she looked down. "What-?"

She couldn't see him in the dark, but she could feel him. Her heart hitched, then started to canter as she felt his hair-roughened legs between hers, the solid weight of his hips spreading her thighs wide. The heat of his body as he hovered over her, mere inches distant, sent her heart into a gallop. When she realized that her senses hadn't lied-that there was no longer any garment, no matter how fine, between them, that his wicked lips and wickeder mouth were teasing her bare skin, and that, any second, his hard hot body would lie directly, skin to naked skin, on hers-her heart started to race.

"Relax."

The deep purring murmur came out of the dark as he lifted his head from her breast. After a moment he added, as if to explain, "I want you again."

Those four gravelly words went straight to her heart-then straight to her loins. He'd pushed her chemise up to her arms-when he tugged, she dragged in a massive breath, and obliged, lifting her arms and letting him draw the thin garment off over her head.

Leaving her naked beneath him.

What followed was a second lesson in sheer delight. In the dark of the night, in the depths of the bed, he touched her, caressed her, then, when her body was aching with urgent longing, filled her.

She lay on her back and let sensation wash over her-let her mind supply what she couldn't see. The cotton sheets formed a cocoon about them, cool against her fevered skin. The mattress was thick enough to cushion her against the powerful surges of his possession.

Arms braced, he loomed above her, a shadow lover in the night; he held himself over her as their bodies did what seemed to come naturally. To them both.

She couldn't deny she enjoyed it thoroughly, that she joyfully put her heart and soul into the exercise every bit as much as did he. She enjoyed feeling his body merging with hers, enjoyed the deep sense of completion that came, borne on that final surrender.

Enjoyed the weight of him when he collapsed, spent, upon her.

Enjoyed the feeling of having him so deeply within her.

Demon woke as dawn tinged the sky and crept into the room to lay its pale fingers on the bed. In their light he saw an angel-his angel-sprawled asleep by his side.

She was facing away from him, half on her stomach.

For a long moment, he studied her golden curls while vivid memories rolled through his brain. Then, slowly, careful not to jar her, he came up on one elbow, then reached out and gently lifted the sheet, and drew it down.

She was more perfect than he'd thought-more beautiful than his imagination had been able to conjure. As the light about them strengthened, he looked his fill, drank in the sight of firm curves and slender limbs covered in flawless ivory skin-skin he knew felt like silk to his touch.

And would heat with gratifying swiftness if he touched her.

His gaze had fastened on the smooth hemispheres of her bottom. The thought of her responsiveness coupled with the sight brought him swiftly to attention, and too quickly to the brink of pain.

He gritted his teeth-and tried to think. Tried to reason with his overheated flesh.

All he could recall was her eagerness, her enthusiasm, her honest, open, unrestrained passion.

And the fact that he'd exercised great care in taking her the first time, and she hadn't tensed in the slightest when he'd taken her again.

He shouldn't, of course, have been so demanding as to take her a second time mere hours after the first. But he'd been desperate-visited by an ungovernable urge to reassure himself that it hadn't been a dream. That the most sensual woman he'd met in his life was an innocent Botticelli angel.

If he was wise, he wouldn't think about that-about how she'd responded so ardently, adapted so readily, then joined him in a wild ride. A ride rather wilder and certainly longer than he'd intended.

But she'd enjoyed it-and she'd enjoyed their second ride, too.

Perhaps she'd enjoy a third?

His hand had made contact with her bottom before he'd finished the thought.

Flick woke to discover her bottom flushed and fevered, and Demon's hand sliding beneath her hip. He lifted her, and stuffed a pillow beneath her hips, then eased her down, settling her more definitely on her stomach.

Which seemed rather odd. But then, she was still mostly asleep. "Mmm?" she murmured, making it a question.

He leaned over her, looked into her heavy-lidded eyes, then kissed her shoulder. "Just lie still."

She smiled sleepily, and let her lids fall.

His hand returned to her bottom.

To gently but evocatively caress, leaving a tracery of fire on skin already heated and dewed. Her breath came increasingly fast-when she murmured again, an incoherent question, his hand shifted. Long fingers slid between her thighs, into the soft folds of flesh between. He caressed, then probed-she felt him lean over her, the crisp hair on his chest brushing her back, sending tingling shivers racing through her.

All the way to where his fingers delved.

He smothered a curse, then his fingers left her. He shifted, his weight dipping the bed as he lifted over her. With his legs, he nudged hers wide; grasping her right knee, he drew it up, bending that leg, leaving her knee almost level with her waist-he settled his hips in the space created, hard against her bottom.

She blinked her eyes wide-a large hand came down, palm flat by her shoulder, carrying his weight above her.

Her heart throbbed and leapt to her throat as she felt his weight against her bottom-then stopped as she felt a familiar hardness ease into her.

She gasped as he slid powerfully home. All the way.

Holding still, his hips flush with her bottom, he lowered his head and brushed a kiss on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Naked, with him equally naked behind her, joined in a fashion that made her think of stallions and mares, with him throbbing at her center… she was more than all right. She was on the brink of ecstasy.

"Yes." The word came out in a rush, laden with a sweet tension she couldn't disguise. He bent his head and touched his lips to her ear.