She had been so certain that neither of them would break here in this bed, but suddenly she wondered if this was the very place they might.

But then she couldn’t think at all, couldn’t breathe.

Because the pleasure that she felt was so deep, so all-consuming. And it was something other than pleasure. Something more. And it was something different than sex in the way that she understood it. And it wasn’t just because he was so large, so big that he seemed to touch every part of her. It wasn’t just that the way he moved seemed to touch her in amazing ways that she hadn’t realized existed.

It was more. It was him.

They were skin to skin in a deep and real way she had never been with anyone, because of course she had always used protection in the past, and they weren’t using it now. But it didn’t feel like it was part of the whole baby situation. Instead, this felt entirely separate. Like it was something just between the two of them and whatever happened after would simply be.

Because maybe when this was all finished they would know.

Maybe it would shift everything, change everything, and maybe then she would understand. What to do and where to go from here, what it meant for them, meant for everything.

But then he began to move. And there was nothing. Nothing but the moment. Nothing but him. Nothing but this.

It was impossible to think that she could come again, so quickly after she had the first time. But as he thrust into her, slowly pulling back out, pleasure built inside her like a thunderstorm, building and growing, waiting for the heavens to release. And when they did, when her release poured down on her like rain over the land, she wanted to weep. As her internal muscles pulsed around him, pulled him deeper, she understood something.

He became part of her in a way that no one else ever had.

It was so deep and intimate. Such a peek of all that they were.

When she thought it couldn’t be more, he shivered. Shook. Thrust hard into her one last time and filled her with himself.

She clung to him, breathing hard, holding his shoulders and fighting to keep tears at bay.

She felt altered. Shifted. As if the very makeup of what she was had changed. But then, the roots of the world had become something new since Ryder Daniels had touched her, so why wouldn’t she be different also?

She moved away from him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, clinging to the mattress as she breathed hard, trying to collect herself.

“Sammy,” he said, and she heard the rustle of the covers behind them.

Suddenly, it was like the room tilted. And she could see clearly the past, when she would come in here as a girl, running away from life, and the present.

Dammit.

She was just the same.