Lora Leigh - Dangerous Pleasure

With a last hard thrust of his hips he buried himself inside her to the hilt, a hard groan tearing from his lips as she writhed beneath him and cried out his name in desperation.

Lifting her legs, wrapping them around his hips, she could only hold on for the ride. Each stroke opened and raked against tender flesh and naked nerve endings. Each breath was a moan, a cry. Each touch traveled through her, shredding her control over herself, over her own body, and over her heart.

It all belonged to Abram.

Meeting each stroke, her hips lifting, the flares of pleasure began to collide, to ripple into her womb and tighten her body until she lost her breath, lost her senses.

The orgasm exploded with such incredible force that her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, her legs spasming around her hips, her lips parting on a breathless moan.

It seemed to go on and on. To ripple and rake through her as she felt him surge inside her deep and hard one last time, then the heated spurts of his come filling her.

His arms wrapped around her, pressing beneath her body, his palms covering her shoulders as he whispered her name, his voice guttural, hoarse. Filled with love.

“Love,” he whispered at her ear. “My sweetest love. My heart.”

Without her, he knew he couldn’t survive. She held him. Every part of him. Every beat of his heart, every dream of his soul. Holding her to him, Abram did as he had never done. He did the very thing he had felt such guilt about because he hadn’t done it with his first wife, and she had known it.

He gave to Paige that last part of himself.

The part of a male that became more than a lover, more than a heart mate.

He gave her that primitive, possessive core that most men hold back.

He gave her his being and he felt the moment she gave to him.

And they became more than just one.

In the midst of a pleasure that could have destroyed them, that could have ripped their lives from them, they had found something they now knew would always save them. Each other.