Heart Of Atlantis

again.”
    And so he did.

    Alaric stared up at the ceiling, sated and a little dazed from his third climax, and Quinn’s fifth or sixth, and he wondered how and why he’d ever thought anything in the world was worth giving up
this
. Quinn lay curled up next to him, her arm over his chest and one leg across his, and he thought he had never been so perfectly content simply to be still—present in the moment—in his entire life.
    But then he thought that he wanted to try to make her come with just his mouth and hands.
    He turned his head to look at her, and she shook her head. “Oh, no. Not again. Alaric, you’re insane. I’m not Atlantean, and I don’t have your magical powers of recuperation. If you don’t let me get some rest, I won’t even be able to walk tomorrow.”
    “I’m happy to heal you. With my mouth,” he said, flashing his most wicked smile. “I’ll even let you rest. Simply lie still, and I’ll do everything.”
    “Oh, this can’t be— Oh. Oh, boy,” she murmured, as his lips closed around one taut pink nipple. “You don’t . . . ah, oh. Oh.”
    “You’re a little incoherent,” he informed her, just before he moved down in the bed, pushed her thighs apart, and put his mouth on her. He did as he’d promised and sent a pulse of healing power through her, to soothe any small abrasions he’d caused with his . . . exuberance, and she moaned and arched her body into the air as she came, yet again.
    He raised his head and aimed a fierce smile at her. “You can come, as you have just proved. Now you will do so, again.”
    “You’re giving me orders, Alaric. Even in bed, you’re—” She cried out and jumped, clutching at the bedsheets with one hand and his hair with the other. “You can’t, we— Oh. Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhh,” she moaned, as he licked and sucked at the pink bud that brought her such pleasure.
    He knew the anatomy, of course, but he had never done such a thing, even back in the brief period before his service to Poseidon. He’d had no idea that the act could bring a woman so much satisfaction, but now that he did, he decided to experiment, and he slid two of his fingers inside her while he stroked her with his tongue, and she bucked underneath him again, arching her back, and then she came so hard she screamed his name.
    “I have decided to spend the rest of my life giving you orgasms in various beautiful settings, all over the world,” he announced, feeling quite pleased with himself as he realized that her eyes were glazed and she probably hadn’t heard a single word.
    “Mine,” he said, kissing his way up her body and then lifting her to lie on top of him, enjoying the blissful expression on her face and the almost-boneless feel of her body, which was limp with pleasure and satisfaction.
    “Mine.”

    When Quinn floated back down to the bed from wherever that latest earth-shattering orgasm had sent her, she found Alaric leaning over her with a glass of water in one hand and a towel in the other.
    She took both, but she decided a trip to the shower again was in order, if she could only get her shaky legs to carry her there. When she told him her dilemma, Alaric carried her into the shower and washed every bit of her, which led to him soaping her breasts more carefully and thoroughly than he’d even done a few hours earlier, which ended up with her leaning against the wall, hands on the shower ledge, while he took her from behind. She came again, helplessly, endlessly, and he thrust into her with so much power and passion that the sheer eroticism of his joy in making love to her sent her over the edge once again. He roared—a primal sound filled with so much purely male satisfaction that it made her laugh—and then he came again, hard, and leaned down to pull her back against his chest and embrace her.
    But even that simple hug turned into something more, when his fingers couldn’t seem to resist her nipples, and he started to caress her breasts again. She moaned a little, almost in spite of herself, but she grabbed his hand when it started to move down her belly.
    “I can’t keep this up,” she said, but she bucked back against him helplessly when he ignored her restraining hand and stroked her again.
    “I seem to be able to keep this
up
quite well,” he said, so proudly—so absolutely, positively
male
—that she started laughing.
    She carefully moved forward and then turned around on suddenly very shaky legs. She stumbled and would have fallen if