Long waves of pleasure cascaded through her, each one washing her closer to something beautiful, something enormous. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back to absorb every sensation she could. He nibbled her collarbone, the stubble on his cheeks scraping pleasurably over her skin. He worked higher, until his lips were at her neck, and it was … all right. It was fine. Something men did. Women liked it.

So why did it suddenly feel like panicked birds were beating inside her rib cage? She wanted to lower her chin, protect her throat, but she forced herself to not move. He was inside her, for god’s sake. If the man wanted to nibble at her neck she should try to enjoy it, like a normal woman would—or at least pretend long enough that he wouldn’t notice—

Emerald green wallpaper, fading to gray. Bright gold buttons, whimsically embellished with fire-breathing dragons. Expensive cloth beneath her clawing fingers, as she fought for breath.

Those fingers weakening when it didn’t come.

Not now, damn it. Alain didn’t control her anymore—

His face, elegantly handsome, transformed in fury. His hair, always perfectly arranged, rumpled, one golden lock falling across his forehead. She wouldn’t let it be the last thing she saw—she looked past him at the wallpaper—

No. She wasn’t going to let him ruin this—

It took Sam a moment to notice something was wrong. One minute he was in heaven, wrapped in her glorious wetness, tracing a line of kisses up the beautiful curve of her neck, and the next … she wasn’t there anymore. Oh, her body was present, but her muscles were rigid and her eyes blank. He stopped moving.

“Alva? Alva.”

“It’s fine,” she said, from far away. “Keep going.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, pulling out. When she made a slight protesting sound, he lay down beside her, drawing her against his chest. “Just for a minute. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, and the expression on her face sent a curl of horror into his stomach. “Please. I don’t need to stop.”

“Who said I was stopping because of you?” He made himself answer casually. “You take a lot out of a man. I need a rest.”

She blinked, and he saw her come back to herself. “You do not,” she said.

“Listen, sweetheart, it’s not every day a man is confronted with the opportunity to swive the living embodiment of all his sexual fantasies. I felt faint.”

“You did not!”

Color was slowly seeping back into her cheeks. He leaned back against the pillow, his cock desperately informing him it would like to return to what it had been doing. He tried to ignore it. “I assure you I did. Have you seen your breasts? They’re enough to make a man dizzy.”