Angels Fall

caught her nipple between his teeth, nibbling there until her hips began to pump against his hand. Until he felt her gather, until he felt her give.
    "Scream all you want," he whispered, clamping his hands on hers, imprisoning her as his tongue and teeth grazed down her. "Nobody's going to hear but me."
    She did scream as he did things to her with that tongue, those teeth, those lips. And the sound of it shocked her, the wildness of it.
    She couldn't stop him. The fingers of her trapped hands dug into the bed as if to keep them both anchored to it. Her breath caught in her throat, burst out on another cry that sobbed out utter pleasure. For the first time in more than two years, being completely helpless brought thrills instead of fear. If this was a Ferris wheel gone mad, this time she was eager for the ride. Faster. Spinning. Breaking free to fly.
    Sensations racked her, soft then sharp, tantalizing then torturous. He dragged her up, yanked the shirt  away. Then she was rolling with him over the bed, crazed to touch, to taste, to have. She groaned when he pulled her arms over her head, arched to press heat to heat. And he wrapped her fingers around the rungs of the headboard. "Better hold on," he told her. Then plunged.
    It was an earthquake, a dangerous tumult of exhilaration and power and speed. Battered by the force, she held on. half afraid she'd fly into pieces even as she matched him stroke for desperate stroke. Then she let go, wrapped her arms around him so they could fly together. Everything went limp, her mind, her body. Her arms slid weakly away. His weight was on her but felt insubstantial, as if they'd somehow melted together. The only thing real was the pounding of his heart against hers.
    She drifted there, with his thundering heart the center of her world. When he shifted, she tried to reach otit and stop him. But he rolled onto his back, then linked his fingers with hers. And she let her spinning head fall to his shoulder.

    FROM THE SHADOWS of the trees, he watched the house. Watched the bedroom window where the light from the three-quarter moon was just strong enough to give him silhouettes, shadows, the sense of movement behind the glass.
    It was too early for sleep, he knew. Never too early for sex. He could wait them out. Patience was an essential tool of success, and survival.
    He had several options, several plans. Plans and options were other important tools. He would adjust them to suit whatever opportunity presented itself.
    She hadn't spooked as easily as he'd assumed she would. In truth, as he'd hoped she would. So he'd adjusted. Instead of running, she appeared to be heeling in. He could work with that, too. He might have preferred it otherwise, but his life was full of preferences, and many only half realized. But the ones he had realized he damn well meant to keep intact.
    When the bedroom light came on, he continued to watch.
    He saw Reece through the window. Naked, she gave a long stretch that transmitted sexual satisfaction. His blood didn't warm at the sight, nor did his loins tighten. After all, he wasn't a Peeping Tom. In any case, she wasn't the type that appealed to him as a man. Too skinny, too complicated. He barely saw her as a woman.
    She was an obstacle. Even a kind of project. He enjoyed projects.
    He saw her laugh, watched her mouth move as she shrugged into a shirt. Obviously Brody's, as it was miles too big for her.

    He watched her cross to the door, stop and say something over her shoulder. So he adjusted his plans to opportunity.

    " WATER FIRST," Reece repeated. '"I'm about to die of thirst."
    "The shower has water, so I'm told."
    "I'm not getting into the shower with you—that's another path to perdition, and I need to hydrate. I can throw something simple together while you get yours."
    "As in food?"
    "I didn't figure bread and cheese would hold you, even with sweaty sex tossed in. I'll do a quick stir-try." His sausheu expression shitted instantly to scowl. '"You said food, not vegetables."
    "'You'll like it."
    Loose and limber from sex, Reece all but floated out of the room. An easy meal, she thought—slice up a couple of the chicken breasts she'd frozen in marinade. Sautéed with garlic, onion, broccoli, carrots, cauliflower. Served over rice with some of her ginger sauce.
    Couldn't miss.
    She wished she had some water chestnuts, but what could you do.
    She rubbed her throat, imagined she could drink a gallon of water. Hardly a wonder since they'd gone at