Kay Hooper - The Wizard Of Seattle

His eyes, liquid black, burning, gazed into hers, and it was Serena who tried to struggle against this, not physically but emotionally, all her fears wild in her eyes. For so long she'd thought him beyond reach, and it had been safe to love him, love Merlin, without risk or vulnerability, but now he was Richard, flesh and blood and the heat of need, and it was terrifying to think of giving so much of herself to him.…

Merlin could see, as well as feel, her emotions, and her panicked defenselessness made him reach out with an instinct far deeper than any his ancestors had instilled in him.

"Don't, Serena, don't be afraid," he murmured, both his hands lifting to surround her face, his thumbs gently smoothing the hot skin over her cheekbones. "You've been so brave and strong and clearheaded through all of this, even when I gave you so many reasons to hate me. Don't leave me now, please. Fight the way you always have. So stubborn and fierce… my Serena…"

She caught her breath on a little gasp, and as quickly as it had surged inside her the trepidation was gone. She was left with a necessity that was almost frantic, a hunger for him that held all the intensity of a storm trapped under glass for too long. It felt as if she had wanted him forever.

"Yes," she whispered, all her senses once more focused on the overwhelming contact of their naked bodies.

Merlin kissed her, his mouth urgent, and eased them both down into the softness of the fur-covered pallet. Leaning over her, kissing her again and again, he touched her silken stomach and felt it quiver, then slid his hand slowly up to cup her breast. She jerked and made a little sound, and he raised his head to look down at her. Her eyes were wide and fixed on his face, startled and wondering, color and heat blooming over her cheekbones as his thumb brushed over her nipple.

He kissed her once more, his tongue slipping between her lips to touch and play with hers until she answered the intimate little caresses eagerly. She made another little sound, this one of disappointment, when his mouth left hers to trail over her face. He touched her eyelids and forehead, her cheeks and nose and chin, almost as if he were using his lips to memorize her every feature. Then his mouth moved down her throat, and she felt the shattering sensation of his tongue slowly tracing the little heart with which he had marked her as his.

He was kneading her breast gently, and when his mouth finally reached her nipple and closed over it, she moaned and clutched at his shoulders, her senses nearly drowned by the waves and waves of burning pleasure.

For the first time in his life, Merlin's perceptions of this act were completely unclouded, unaffected by anything except his senses and emotions, and her responses. The hunger inside him was clean and sharp, rising, filling him with a pulsing ache as alive as his beating heart. He had never known desire could be like this, so overpowering, and he gave himself up to it with a joyous sense of freedom and gratitude.

It wasn't simply a female body he needed so badly, but Serena. Her skin was heated silk under his touch, her luminous eyes gleamed up at him with a hunger that matched his, and the little sounds she made touched all his senses with fire. There was something almost familiar about making love to her, as if some deeply buried part of him had always known how it would be.

He caressed her breasts until they swelled and blushed with passion, until she was breathing as quickly as he was, and then he moved his hand down over her quivering belly, his fingers sliding into red curls, parting her to find the soft, hot flesh already throbbing for his touch. She cried out into his mouth and bucked upward in surprise, but he held her securely and stroked her in a steady, quickening rhythm.

Serena was slightly astonished when her thighs parted for him so eagerly, when her hips lifted and moved to his touch, when her body seemed to give itself over to him completely with utter naturalness. But before she could follow the self-preserving instincts all humans shared and try to regain control over herself, it was too late, for too late.

The wash of feelings was vast, tremendous, engulfing her. Pleasure and heat and a rhythmic pulsing and pleasure, and she heard herself cry out… maybe it was his name, because he came to her then, joining their bodies in a merging so stark and powerful and absolute that it felt utterly right. There was pain, but it was fleeting; and when the pleasure returned, she forgot there had ever been anything else. And even in the instant of naked vulnerability when she knew that everything she was lay exposed to him, she was utterly fearless because she loved him.

Merlin couldn't take his eyes off her, drinking in the beauty and mystery of her. She was so giving, so honest in her responses; he could see her every emotion in her eyes. He watched her desire build until it took her beyond herself, until he took her beyond herself, saw her wonder and joy. He saw her brief pain and watched her forgive him for causing it. He saw her hunger rise again, this time even more intensely, and he was with her now, completely with her, their bodies moving together with urgent intent, driven toward the release every part of them demanded.

Serena cried out wildly, surging beneath him, her eyes going wide and dazed, and her beautiful features stamped with a profoundly female satisfaction. Her strong inner muscles tightened around him in spasms of pleasure, and Merlin shuddered, groaning, as that shattering caress sent him over the edge.

And even then, even in a moment so primitive and overwhelming that it completely blocked coherent thought, even in that instant of being beyond himself, Merlin whispered her name.

He had absently conjured another blanket for them, because neither wanted to move long enough to get under the ones beneath them. Serena's cloak supplied soft and sensuous bedding, and the fire only a couple of feet away provided warmth (since it was a wizard-created fire, it would burn on exactly the same until it was told not to), so they didn't miss being covered until the heat of their bodies ebbed.

Exhausted and wildly happy, Serena lay close beside him as he lay on his back, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her ringers sliding through the thick black hair on his chest and probing the skin beneath. He was so hard, she thought, yet it was a hardness her body and all her senses welcomed eagerly. She felt one of his hands toying with her hair, stroking it and smoothing it over her back, and his other hand came up to where hers was touching his chest. Their ringers twined together.

He hadn't said anything since they had come back to themselves. A little anxious, she closed her eyes and concentrated. It wasn't actually cheating, she assured herself, trying to do what she had managed twice before, because she wouldn't be able to read his thoughts. But if she could perhaps get a sense of his emotions…

She saw the front edge of the lean-to and, beyond, the darkness of a sky that was cloudy. She felt that alien sense of a different body with greater muscle and mass, and she felt utter relaxation, and she felt-

You're cheating, Serena.

Startled, she opened her eyes and lifted her head with a jerk to stare down at him. He was smiling. She cleared her throat. "Well. I was curious. Sue me." Before he could do more than lift an eyebrow, she added, "How is it that you can say things to me in your head even though I can't read your thoughts?"

"Because I'm a Master wizard," he replied simply.

"Oh."

"What were you curious about?"

"Now, what do you think?"

The exasperation in her voice made his smile widen, and he reached up his free hand to stroke a wayward tendril of bright hair off her cheek. "I think you're beautiful."