Heart Of Atlantis

he hadn’t swept her up into his arms and carried her back out of the shower, dried her off, and helped her to bed.
    “I have to sleep now, or I might die of too much wonderful sex,” she informed him.
    “Lovemaking,” he said firmly. “We have been making love, not merely having sex. Do not forget it.”
    “Yes, sir,” she said, smiling sleepily and raising two fingers in a mock salute, and then he climbed into bed with her and wrapped his arms around her. She knew nothing but blissful warmth and lovely sleep, until sometime in the middle of the night, when she woke to find him stroking her nipples with his long, sensitive fingers.
    She retaliated by scooting down in the bed and taking his penis into her mouth, and he yelled something in Atlantean and his entire body stiffened and went rigid. He dug into the sheets with both hands and continued speaking in a low tone, saying something that sounded beautifully lyrical—either an oath or a promise—and she licked the entire length of his shaft, smiling as whatever it was he was saying grew increasingly more fervent.
    “You cannot—”
    “Oh, I can,” she interrupted. “Don’t move. This is my turn.”
    She took her time with it, driving him to the edge of madness and beyond, as she cupped his firm balls in her hand and sucked on the sensitive tip of his penis with varying pressures, until she found exactly what he liked and exactly what made him lose all vestiges of control.
    He cried out again, and she heard her name, and
mi amara
, and something that sounded a lot like
oh, holy shit
, and then his entire body went rigid, his penis hardened even further and swelled, and then he came in her mouth.
    When she sat up, he looked both extremely blissful and so comically surprised that she fell over sideways on the bed laughing.
    “You . . . Oh, by all the gods . . . you . . . But I have never lost control like that,” he finally said, and she kept laughing until he rolled her over and started tickling her, which led to kissing, which led to him lifting her over his body and lowering her to straddle him again, and this time they both cried out when he found his way home.
    She was so deliciously sensitive after the marathon of lovemaking that she was right on the edge of sore, and he knew it, of course, since they’d long since opened the barriers between their emotions. He held her tightly, although he moved in long, slow strokes, claiming her as his at the same time he was so careful with her. When pleasure threatened to pass over the line to pain, he reached down between their bodies and gently pinched her between two fingers, and the added pressure sent her off like a rocket. She collapsed on his chest as he came inside her, yet again, and she had a moment to wonder how she’d ever survive the sheer pleasure between them, before unconsciousness claimed her.
    When she woke up again, he wasn’t touching any part of her body, which was so different that it startled her into wakefulness. She sat up and scanned the room, only to discover that Alaric wasn’t there. He’d probably gone to find them something to eat, or at least the growling in her stomach hoped so, but hunger pains faded into insignificance as she stared at the new addition to the room.
    For some reason, Alaric had brought an amazing light sculpture into the room while she was asleep. It was unbelievably beautiful. Similar to Art Deco in its lines and curves, it also possessed an inner light source that was almost magical and took the piece from simply art to
Art
, with a capital A. She was quite literally transfixed by it.
    Until the light sculpture turned to her and started talking.
    “We have a small problem,” it said in Alaric’s voice.

Chapter 30
    “If this is how you try to impress a girl, I would have been okay with pancakes and bacon.” Quinn sat up in bed and wrapped the blankets around herself, staring at Alaric the human light sculpture the entire time. “Well. What’s this about? You couldn’t bear to go without a crisis for ten whole hours?”
    “I have no idea what this is about.” His voice was deepened and magnified by the magic, and it touched places deep inside her that a voice had no business touching. She shivered and then shook it off.
    “Yes, you do. It’s the Nereus thing. Where having great sex, combined with the soul-meld, turns you into an Atlantean super-magician human lightbulb.”
    “I don’t think Keely said anything about the quality of the