Maggie pleasured him until, with a rumbling growl, he suddenly pulled her back onto the bed. She landed astraddle of him, his manhood prodding at her swelling dampness, seeking entrance. Maggie took him in with one fierce motion of her hips, flinging back her head in glorious submission as his hands closed over her breasts.

Reeve’s hips began to rise and fall beneath Maggie, and with each withdrawal she suffered the profoundest despair, with each deep, returning thrust, she knew undiluted joy. This fierce parrying went on for a long time, until both Reeve and Maggie were groaning in the singular delirium that is love.

Their crises were simultaneous, sundering their souls from their bodies, bonding them together into one entity. Inevitably, though, they became two people again, and even that separation was sweet.

Maggie was so weak that even after her breathing had returned to normal, even after her body had ceased its shuddering, she couldn’t trust her legs to carry her back to her own bed. She snuggled close to Reeve and he held her, his hand moving tenderly up and down her back until she slept.

Bright sunlight glared through Maggie’s lids, forcing her to wake up. She opened her eyes to find Reeve lying beside her, watching her with a sober expression that instantly turned to a teasing amusement.

It was then that Maggie remembered what a wanton she’d been, and she blushed, the color rolling up her body from the tips of her toes to finally lap at her forehead like a tide. “It was the cordial,” she protested lamely.

Reeve threw back his head and laughed. “The hell it was,” he replied.

Maggie moved to push him away, but before she could, he was suspended above her, his weight pinning her arms to her sides. She squirmed, furious. “Let me go!” she hissed.

“Not yet,” he said, his lips playing with hers. “Oh, no, Yank—not yet.”

Maggie was beginning to want him again and that, after the night just past, was more than she could bear. She started to protest, but her words were trapped in his mouth as he kissed her, and her resolve was greatly weakened by the way he gently moved his hips against hers.

Presently, he drew back from her mouth, but his hips remained solidly in place and his beautiful blue-green eyes laughed into Maggie’s snapping gray ones. “Let me love you, Maggie, or I swear I’ll make you beg.”

Maggie knew that he could make her do just that; he’d done it over and over again the night before, and she found the prospect unappealing. Besides, she could feel the heated length of him pressing against her skin. “Oooooh,” she moaned, for that was all the protest she could manage, and when Reeve entered her, slowly and tenderly, she welcomed him.

* * *