Here, she yielded to him. Here, nothing else mattered.
And as their bodies clashed in carnal pleasure, their hearts spoke.
Need. Want. Love.
Slick skin met and clashed. Softness yielded and gave, undulating like waves on the wild sea. The flames of passion spread and burned. He pushed and pushed, long and deep, sending her body racing to catch the elusive pleasure.
Then they caught it.
"Ciara," he choked as an exquisite climax roared through his body, scraping up his spine and shattering through him. Throwing his head back, he drove into her and touched her soul.
She clung to him as he set off a luxurious rhapsody of sensation in her. She bowed like a pale ribbon, and he ground into her, time and motion suspended as opulent pleasure rippled down her body to claim him. To latch onto his soul and steal it out of his chest.
She whispered his name over and over, and he heard tears in her voice, saw them in her eyes when he looked at her. The sight made his heartbeat stagger and he eased down onto her. Immediately she gripped him tighter, burying her face in his chest.
Ciara felt as if every emotion she possessed was hanging by a thread, unveiled by his loving. Gone was the memory of Hong Kong and in its place grew the tenderness of a lifetime. Her throat seized and she knew she was on borrowed time. That this would end and likely destroy her. And him. But she could no more stop it than she could stop a wave, stop breathing. He was in her blood. She wanted all she could have, even it they were crumbs.
He rose up, and met her gaze.
"You okay?" he said, his voice rough.
"Incredible," she said, tracing his features, the line of his lips. He kissed her fingertips, her palm, knowing nothing could describe what he was feeling, what had just happened between them. And as he carefully rolled to his back, taking her with him, he didn't think words would do them justice. Bryce wanted only to stay there with her locked around him like a second skin, and forget the world that moved and lived beyond this moment.
Ciara lay sprawled across his chest like a sated lion as she waited for her world to tip back into focus. His hands moved over her spine in slow circles and together they let out a slow breath so full of contentment and peace, that deep inside, it scared them both.
* * *
A short while later Ciara stirred. Bryce's fingers were in her hair, toying with it where it lay spread over his chest. She snuggled deeper and didn't want to move a muscle.
"Am I too heavy?"
He scoffed. "Not likely."
He sifted his fingers through her hair and finally she lifted her head, and met his gaze. Her insides twisted and jumped at the look in his eyes, full of pure masculine contentment and she inched up, loving his groan and how he curled to meet her.
He kissed her softly, an erotic play of lips and tongue that stirred her body and warmed her heart. When he drew back and settled into the mound of pillows, she propped her forearms on his chest.
His lip quirked. "Hey yourself."
"You have nothing to say?"
"Fishing for compliments?"
Now it was her turn to scoff. He didn't smile, yet continued to stare, his gaze moving over her features. "There is no going back now."
"Who said I wanted to?"
He gripped her under her arms and dragged her up his body. "Good, because we're just getting started."
"Started on what, Bryce? Making love with me again?"
"Ahh, so you know the difference."
Her eyes grew suddenly glossy and she pushed his hair off his forehead. "Yeah, I figured it out."
He rolled to his side, hovering over her. "I want more than this, Ciara."
"Shh," she said, and put a finger over his lips. He nipped it. "Let's just take it one day at a time."
Bryce let out a breath. He wasn't expecting a commitment and she was right. One night, one time in bed didn't make it so. But the fact that he wanted one from her still startled him. "Well, this day isn't over."
She smiled and wondered where her strength had gone. That same strength she'd had in Hong Kong that had enabled her to walk away from Bryce. Her throat burned and she knew that she would have to leave, that she'd destroy this sweet peace, a peace she'd never known, and go back to her real life.
She was living on borrowed time.
And she'd give up almost anything if it was hers to keep.
His arms dug beneath her, scooping her close. His mouth was on her breast, his tongue flicking her nipple before he sucked it deeply into his mouth.
"You taste so good," he said, turning his attention to the mate.
"It's the body wash," she said dryly and only his gaze shifted to her, tender humor in his eyes. He blew on her damp nipple and it tightened.
His hand swept down her spine to her thigh and he drew it over his hip. His hardness pressed against her and between her thighs grew hot and slick.